Chasing the Sun
by Shadow-of-what
Summary: Alex has so many things to fight, how does he find out which ones to make peace with?
1. Taipei

Two days after the cast had been taken off his ankle they contacted him. With a lack of any major or obvious disasters going on he had no idea where he was going until they put him on the plane to Taiwan. He'd been placed as an English diplomat's son on holidays from boarding school in England. He was keeping his eyes and ears open during the talks between Taiwan and China that were held in Taipai the most densely populated city Alex had ever been in.

Two days in, still severely jet lagged Alex found himself standing at a window at midnight looking out over the city. It was the best place to do it from; the hundred and first floor of what previously had been the tallest inhabited building in the world before Shanghai went one step further. The chinese and the Taiwanese had been feuding in any way possible ever since the island separated from communism.

Since the diplomats had turned in for the night Alex was the only one still awake on these few floors but for security, but down in the city just a few streets away he could see a mass of lights and moving people.

"Cant sleep?"

It was a guard doing his round.

"Jet lag, what's going on down there?"

The guard came over and looked down.

"A night market, very many people. You go?"

Alex shrugged. "I don't know, it's midnight isn't is dangerous to walk around at night?"

"Not here, Taiwan lowest crime in world."

"Really?" Now that was surprising, he'd always heard Sweden or Canada had the lowest crime rate.

"No one says because no one believe us to be a country."

"Well, I'll go down and take a look."

"Remember you take your pass, should be nice down there it just rain."

Alex nodded fishing his ID badge out of his pocket. "Thanks."

He smiled as he got into the lift pressing the button and laughing as the lift shot down, the building had the fastest lifts in the world as well. They went up at around sixty miles an hour and down a little bit faster.

He headed out the main exit hands in his pockets and breathed the first normal air since he'd entered the huge building days before. It smelt of rain, cooking food, exhaust fumes with the slight whiff of open drains. There was something very freeing about the mixture, real and un-artificial. He set off in the direction of the market following the crowds of people and letting himself be pulled along through the narrow streets. It was like a living, breathing animal this crowd. It surged, retracted and paused before surging again, people waiting for each other, looking at each other and every word they said was in tonal sounds unintelligible to him but for Shei shei. Thank you.

Hand in his pockets, free, he simply walked where the crowds took him till they thinned and he walked on through dark deserted streets. Alone. He emerged on a main road and walked along it seeing a hedge on his left opening into a square then he stopped breath taken away.

"Wow."

The square was more of a huge rectangle going back from the road towards a building in the distance, halfway between however were five joined arches with typical Chinese looking roofs. The middle was the largest the rest going down in size either side and they were lit by spot lights from the base of the pillars that held up the arches. With the wet tiled ground reflecting the orange light-polluted sky the monument looked as if it rose from the middle of a sunset.

Alex walked to the middle with the road at his back so he was straight on and smiled, it was massive the distance between him and the arches. Deceptive. The length of a football pitch perhaps and beyond that another leading to the even bigger building behind. And currently, so recently after the rain, he was the only one in it.

He got the strange urge to not go back to the 101 building, he had the beautiful impossibility lodged in his head that he could disappear into one of these narrow alleyways; disappear into the huge population and live anonymously, out of danger. It was a soothing calming fantasy that he lived out in that square, happy, safe, free. Till a woman rode her bike across the square her dark hair flying behind her and he smiled again shaking his head, it was here he would come if he ever needed to get out. If he ever needed to disappear. For now he needed to get back.

He turned back towards the way he'd come and blinked as he saw another man ten metres away looking at the arch also. He was fair haired and tall, fingers hooked into the belt loops of his jeans and when he turned to him the only thing he could say was.

"You're dead."

"I heard that you are too." He turned fully but didn't come any closer.

"Not quite. They shot me."

He had to be a ghost conjured by the empty square, he couldn't really be there. "I watched you die." Alex closed the distance between them till it was only a metre looking up at his face and at the rest of him. "Yassen."

"I thought myself dead, but I'm not."

"I went to Scorpia."

"What did you find?"

"They killed my parents."

He blinked. "Who?"

"Scorpia, Julia Rothman she ordered my father dead and used his best friend to get it done."

"John died on a bridge, MI6 shot him."

"It was staged, he came back to England."

Yassen swallowed visibly struggling with something in his head.

"Then Julia found out and killed him?"

"She was in love with him."

"We knew that from the start, who did it?"

"Ash, he was a double agent he's the one who planted the bomb on my parents plane. You stabbed him in Malta."

"I didn't stab him enough it seems." Yassen buried his hands in his pockets shoulders hunched, it seemed strange to see him like this, usually he was the one in control of the information. "This Ash, where can I find him?"

"He's dead."

"That just leaves Julia."

"Also dead."

Yassen smiled.

"Which rock have you been under?"

"One of my own making."

"What will you do?"

"I haven't made a plan yet, Libya probably."

"Why there?"

"Gadafi's regime is a good place to hide, in so much fear one man can disappear easily."

Alex nodded. "So what are we now? Allies? Enemies?"

"The world is not so black and white, I will probably end up working for Scorpia once again."

"Even though they killed my father?"

"Yes."

"You said… you said you loved him."

"I did."

"In what way?"

Yassen just smiled stepping towards him. "In the only way." He ran his fingers through his hair and curled his fingers around his neck, thumb resting against his ear lobe and then traced his jaw bone to his chin. Alex couldn't breathe as he slowly lifted it and rested it against his lips.

He stood frozen as Yassen dropped his hand and walked past him out of sight. Then, desperate to get away he broke into a run and didn't stop till he reached the crowds again. He looked behind him as he entered the street and gulped before loosing himself in the people and making his way back to the101 building.


	2. Benghazi

"We're sending you to Libya, the son of an oil executive who is inspecting drilling operations for Mobil out there, you're part of his cover nothing more."

"What kind of an executive takes his son to Libya with him?"

"They all do it, it's a means of ensuring succession."

"Yeah but I'm only fifteen…"

"The earlier the better."

He already knew he wouldn't squirm out of this mission very easily, he'd just finished his exams and there was no school to miss now till September.

"So what am I keeping a look out for?"

"Nothing, you're just his cover."

"So you're telling me sod all about it."

If she was shocked amused or felt anything at all about the way he'd just spoken she didn't show it. "It's better that way."

It was itching to jump out of his mouth, right on the edge of his lips. He could tell them that Yassen was alive, that he was likely to be in Libya also. He could but he didn't.

The agent was cold, professional. He barely spoke to him which he supposed was part of his cover; rich oil executives probably had little time for their sons. He spent most of the first day in the man's shadow listening to his conversations with a practiced astute look on his face, in reality it was all he could do to keep the latest conversation in his head in case he was asked about it by anyone. Mostly the agent talked to drilling inspectors about their facilities deep in the Libyan desert and when he wasn't doing that he was talking to other executives. His cover name was William Hastings, his real one unknown. That night however, he slipped out of their shared room via the window and didn't return till early morning.

"Were you caught?" Alex asked.

"No."

He turned over and tried to get some sleep.

Two days worth of talk over they travelled from Benghazi to Tripoli in a jeep; the road was too bumpy for anything other vehicle to make it. Even so the jeep's suspension seemed shot to pieces and it was a jarring ride that reminded him of the back of a mog during his SAS training. He planted his feet on the floor and leant his elbows on his knees to create his own suspension for his head. It was nearly a day's drive on the dust road and he almost nodded off as they bumped along staring out the window occasionally and wondering where exactly Yassen might be in this vast dry country. Not that he wanted to run into him, in fact he'd avoid it if possible after the way he'd touched him in Taiwan. He didn't want to think about the implications of the assassin's words that night, not if he could avoid it, they made him feel distinctly uncomfortable and left him with a weird feeling deep inside not dissimilar to nausea.

Tripoli looked strange as they approached it, some strang mix of medieval and modern with its city walls still mostly intact hemming in the inhabitants. There was a checkpoint at the city gates and they were stopped, their passports were double checked and then they were waved over to a waiting area while the officer in charge went through a door in the city's high walls to make a phone call.

People passed by them in both directions on camels or in vehicles and their driver looked nervous, tapping his fingers against the wheel as their area was patrolled by armed guards. Alex looked to the other agent and swallowed eyes narrowing, considering escape opportunities. They were surrounded by armed guards but if he could find something heavy and…

They were waved through.

"Something's wrong." Alex breathed to himself as they entered the city but it was all too late as the checkpoint closed behind them and he felt… What was it that Yassen had said? _In so much fear one man can easily disappear. _He felt it - the fear - it haunted the darting glances of the women in their burkas as they hurried their children along and was expressed in the thin streams of smoke breathed out by the men, as if the anxiety of everyday life had withered the potency of the tobacco's ability to sooth the nerves. Alex had a sickening feeling that if one man could easily disappear in this country then one man and a boy could just as easily enter and never be seen again.

"They knew at the gate."

"They didn't."

"They knew."

"Then why did they let us in?"

It was the most he'd spoken to Alex since they'd arrived, and he looked scared. He was pacing the hotel room while the younger of the two sat on the bed trying to get rid of the knot in his stomach.

"Because now we're trapped."

The agent froze in the act of taking a step as someone banged on the door. Alex briefly looked around the room but agreed with his earlier assessment of it's escape routes. Nil; window too small and barred with a mesh, no secondary door.

"Housekeeping!"

The two of them just looked at it for a few seconds willing footsteps to continue down the hall and then as someone started kicking it the other agent turned to him.

"What do they do to you here?" Alex asked voice even.

The agent stared at him. "God, you're just a kid."

He just stood there looking at him, eyes filled with guilt as the door was battered off its hinges and the room filled with trigger happy soldiers.


	3. Tripoli

They sat together, their backs against the wall. Set in the ceiling there was a barred square hole that let in light from the outside. Since they'd been put in here neither of them had said a word, Alex just sat there staring at the floor where the square of light came in and the agent studied the opposite wall.

They'd torture them, for their names their codes and anything else they might find useful. He felt sick as they waited, refusing to think about how distraught Jack would be if he never made it out of here.

They came for them at dawn unlocking the padlocks and throwing the bolts back with loud clangs of metal on metal. It made him flinch after the silence of the night. Five men walked in all army personnel, four privates and a captain he paused for a moment and then said something in rapid Arabic to the four men, two took up posts opposite the cell and the other two unlocked the door and pulled out the agent next to him. He turned back to Alex.

"Don't worry, I'll clear this up…"

Alex nodded making out like he was ready to cry, they disappeared into a room at the end of the corridor but the door wasn't closed.

"Your name?"

"William Hastings, I don't know what this is about but I have a meeting with.."

The sound of a fist hitting flesh interrupted him, his groaned in a way that suggested a punch to the gut. Alex flinched imagining it was Jack in there. The agent continued maintaining he was William Hastings growing panicked as the hits got worse like he'd say anything they wanted him to if they just let him go.

"So you son, what's his name?"

"Tom."

"Would he be more co-operative?"

"No, don't you dare touch my son."

"Then your name and your employers."

"William Hastings, I work for Mobil I told you."

"I think we'll save your son for now." He said something in Arabic and there was a wirring like an electric drill. "You know the information I want, this can stop any time you choose."

"I don't know what you want me to say!"

He started screaming.

Alex went blank, he gave up the act of being scared for his "father" because he didn't believe it would help any more. They were both going to die.

It was ten minutes before he gave in, Alex wasn't sure what the guy was using the drill to do but the noise it made indicated flesh and then bone.

"I'll tell you!"

Alex didn't blame him really, just the sound of the drill and the screams had been enough to make him drop the act.

"I'm MI6."

"Name?"

"Stephan Baxter."

"Your codes?"

He hesitated one second too long, the drill was activated and the horrid sound resumed he must have shouted them over the noise because Alex didn't hear the combination and then silence with the agent crying.

"What about the boy?"

"He's no one, a kid they pulled in for my cover. Please, he doesn't know anything." He sniffed.

The captain shouted something in Arabic and one of the privates outside Alex's cell replied walking towards him. He wished he, like other agent, knew something of the language so he could work out what it was.

"No!"

Something else in Arabic and the man stopped.

"Why?"

The agent stayed silent.

"Tell me why or he dies."

"You kill him Scorpia will be after you, he's more important than you can imagine."

"Why would a kid be important?"

"I don't know, it's too highly classified."

"I think you do."

The door to the corridor was slammed shut and Alex could hear no more conversation just the sounds of the drill and the screams. He couldn't work out what the man was trying to do, even if the captain knew about Scorpia it seemed unlikely he'd bother them about something as trivial as this he'd likely be dead anyway.

He stared at the floor of his cell and wondered, if he died, who would miss him. Jack, yes she'd cry her eyes out and curl up in her partner's bed with her head buried in his chest. Sabina, she'd be a little lost, a little unsure she'd think about her own mortality. Mrs Jones, fleetingly after all he was convinced that he was the only one who ever ate any of her sweets. Blunt, probably only as a loss to his "armoury". Yassen…

Yassen.

Would he lament his death? He'd be the only one to really appreciate how he died to really know the hardness of his cell floor, the apprehension as he waited for death, the feeling of a bullet heading straight for his head. He'd think about him when he was waiting in that unfamiliar hotel room before a hit, as he thought about John his father. He'd see a teenager way out of his death holding up a smallpox virus, he'd see a kid with a gun trying to pull the trigger and unable. He'd see him as he was, nothing more.

He only hoped it was enough.

The screaming stopped and they dragged the agent out by his arms, his legs bent before they should, before his knees and he sobbed as his feet dragged along the ground.

"I'm sorry Alex, I tried, I'm so sorry."

The captain came out of the room and strode to his cell sticking his hands through the bars and leaning on the cross member.

"Alex Rider, not a name I've heard before."

"No?"

"But if he's to be believed then to question you would be… unadvisable."

"Scorpia possessive then?"

"Irrationally so."

"It might be worth the call then, I'm only thinking of your rank."

"Of course." He smiled showing white teeth and quite a handsome face, his eyes were deceptive; they looked kind. Alex swallowed and decided to try and talk to him.

"Your English is good."

"Thank you, I studied in London."

"Which university?"

"UCL."

"What did you study?"

"Medicine."

Alex whistled. "I hear UCL is the hardest medical school to get into in the country."

"Just about, apart from Cambridge."

"Yeah, but Cambridge is for public school twats."

"True. You live in London?"

"Yeah. In Chelsea."

"The rich side. MI6 pay you well."

"Not at all, I'm under sixteen I can't earn yet."

"So you do this for absolutely nothing."

"King and country's enough apparently."

The captain laughed. "The first rule when being interrogated is to stop your interrogator dehumanising you. You're good…"

Alex shrugged.

"You want anything?"

"A coke, Bail?"

He pushed off the bar and walked out probably to go and call someone up. He returned far quicker than Alex expected holding a glass bottle.

"Bail's been denied."

"Shame."

"And we have no Coke but…" He put a cold bottle of beer down just inside the cell.

"Thanks." Alex pushed himself to his feet and walked stiffly to the bottle picking it up. The first sip was pure, unadulterated heaven to his thirsty dry mouth.

"They're coming for you."

"That I guessed." Alex said blankly.

"Why do they want you?"

A quick boast with a blasé tone of voice. "I killed some important people and lost them a lot of money."

"How much?"

"A few million. What did you do with my partner?"

"He's dead."

Alex nodded. "He was trying to save my life, but what Scorpia will do to me is worse than whatever you could do."

"True, they get paid per hour not per person."

Alex laughed shaking his head. "What's your name?"

"Captain Abdullah Latif."

Alex smiled. "Nice to meet you."

"And you Alex."

"If you studied medicine how did you end up here?"

"What I learnt at university stands me in good stead for my job."

"I see. Do you enjoy it?"

"Not particularly." He pulled out a packet of cigarettes and put one between his lips offering to Alex who shrugged.

"Seeing as I'll die anyway cancer doesn't seem such a good deterrent."

The captain lit his at arms-length before throwing the match to the side. He coughed and spluttered as he took the smoke in for the first time.

"First cigarette?"

"Yeah, sad isn't it."

"Tell me you're not a virgin too."

"Had you lost it at fifteen?"

"No, no I hadn't." He shook his head breathing out the smoke in a steady stream. "You've kissed someone…"

Thinking about the few kisses he'd shared with Sabina he shrugged, he'd always thought they were a bit like weak tea, they appeared the same on the surface but were unsatisfying underneath. "Not really."

Alex leant on the bars taking a gulp of beer and sucking in smoke successfully this time, they were barely a metre away now and he couldn't help but glance at the man's side arm strapped to his leg. He un- holstered it and threw it - without looking - to one of his privates. Alex shrugged.

"Wouldn't you do the same?"

"Indeed."

"Are you a Muslim?"

"I suppose."

Interesting answer, perhas he was in it for the money not because of religious fanaticism. "What will happen to me when I die?"

"Ah, well… That really depends on what you've done in your life."

"As I'm from the decadent, morally corrupt west I'll likely be going to hell…"

"Very likely." Then as an afterthought with a grin. "Infidel."

Alex couldn't resist laughing, he'd reminded him of a time when he'd had nothing more pressing than his homework to do, when he'd laughed with Tom over you-tube videos. "How long have I got?"

"Not long, they seemed… eager to take you off my hands."

"Thanks, for the last drink, smoke, chat…"

"You're the most interesting prisoner I've had in a while, and the youngest that's ever been in this part of the compound."

"That's me, the youngest." Alex breathed out a cloud of smoke. "What's it like? Sex?"

"Amazing."

"Thanks."

There was a loud clang further up the hall way and another private came in and said something in rapid Arabic.

"They're here." The captain translated.

Alex finished his beer and threw the dead end of his cigarette to the dust floor stepping back from the door. The captain leant on it a moment more before unlocking the door and pushing it open.

"I can't save you."

He was confused as he approached him but realisation hit him as he took his head between his hands and kissed him.

For a moment he was simply too shocked to move then he tried to step backwards. He held him in place whispering against his lips.

"You want to live kiss me"

For a moment he hesitated, then he gave it everything he had. He fisted his hands in the man's black hair and pressed himself to him as the hands that had just tortured his colleague pulled their hips together and slipped beneath his shirt. He closed his eyes and lost himself to it, tongue meeting the captain's and almost fighting with it while his hand slid from beneath Alex's shirt into the front of his jeans fingers tracing his cock and then moving behind it to his balls. He hissed digging his fingernails into the man's shoulder and made a sound in the back of his throat as he pressed something cold to his sensitive skin and when he withdrew his hand to squeeze his bum it stayed there. He moaned half-hard, and they parted for air.

Alex's mind kicked into overdrive, he'd just taped something to him where it wouldn't be found, something metal and circular. "What did you-"

He dived back into the kiss taking Alex's hand and shoving it down the front of his combat trousers Alex recoiled slightly to start off with but then reached deeper and ran his fingers over the spot where he'd stuck something to him. There was nothing. He heard him laugh and felt him push his hips forward into his hand, almost pulling his hair out as his fingers curled. With a clang of another door he felt him begin to pull away but forced him to continue for just a moment longer, taking his lip between his teeth and biting it hard enough to taste blood.

He released him and the captain staggered backwards a step – panting - raising a finger to his lip.

"Something to remember me by you bastard."

He just laughed but then when he finished Alex could see something like desperation in his eyes. Then he walked away locked the door and left with his men.

He must have passed the men from Scorpia in the corridor because they entered the room just after he left, Alex fought the urge to touch what he thought must be a tracker. He thought he'd dealt with the fear and come to terms with the fact that he was going to die but the glimmer of hope currently hiding in the midst of his genitals made him think that perhaps, just perhaps, he might live through this. A dangerous thought as Scorpia dragged him off to another four-wheel drive.

"You thought we'd torture you, perhaps to death, but I've had this brilliant idea."

Alex sensed that one of those enjoyable talks was about to ensue, where his captor explained in detail the wonders of his genius plan hoping for some kind of applause. Seeing as his hands were cuffed together he hoped the guy wasn't expecting much.

"You see Julia Rothman wasn't just Julia Rothman to me, she was _my_ Julia."

This couldn't be good.

"I loved her and I had to bury her. So now I'm going to bury you."

So the six foot deep hole in the ground and the coffin nearby _weren't_ just for show.

"But first, do you know anything about the burial practises of Ancient Lybia?"

"Enlighten me." He said, voice dry as the featureless desert around them that they'd driven an hour into.

"Happily. Previously Lybia was ruled by warring gangs…"

"The change being?"

"Shut up! Do not interrupt me." He hit him around the face with the back of his hand cutting his cheek with the ring he wore, he expected more perhaps a couple of punches in the stomach but as quickly as his fury exploded it dissipated once again. "These warring gangs used to take prisoners of war, brand them with their crest and bury them alive."

Alex swallowed thickly.

"Which is precisely what I intend on doing. Hold him!"

Alex writhed and jerked as the two men either side of him dragged him backwards and slammed him down on the bonnet of the Jeep. He tried to kick them but his flailing legs couldn't get anywhere near and then a knife was pressed to his throat.

"Stop squirming."

He froze and winced as his shirt was pulled apart, the buttons flying off.

"Hold him down."

Hard hands pressed down on his legs his hip and his chest.

"Now we did this to you." The man ran his fingers over the scars from the bullet that almost killed him and the surgery afterwards. "So there doesn't seem to be a better place." He pulled out a needle that Alex was sure wasn't sterilised and plunged it into his skin over and over again, he bit his lip to stop himself screaming and turned his head to the side twitching to push the man off him.

"Don't jerk now, or the design will be flawed and I'll have to do it again elsewhere."

It took him fifteen minutes to do whatever it was he was doing then he pulled out a bottle of ink and poured it over the bloody skin rubbing it in with his finger. Alex thrashed against him as it stung, harshly.

"Fuck," he freed a knee and brought it up into one of the men's noses feeling it crack, then the knife was back at his throat and the man punched him in the gut, he curled inwards as far as possible winded.

"That should do." The man examined his chest. "Take a look."

He'd given him a rudimentary tattoo of a scorpion over his heart, further marring scar tissue.

"You're fucking insane."

"You will be when you starve to death inside that coffin in this hot ground." He grinned. "Throw him in."

Three of them had to sit on the lid of the coffin to nail it shut as he fought to keep some daylight coming in through the closing cracks. On his hands and knees the lid on his back he kept the weight off till it just became too much. Then they lifted it and dropped it six feet into the ground. The sounds of the earth heaping on top had him pushing on the wood, beating it with his fists in the dark, it was only the lingering hope of the tracker that stopped him screaming.

Finally it just went quiet and all he could hear was his own breathing in the confined space, he swallowed reached down and pulled the disc from his underwear running his fingers over it and trying to ignore the way the skin of his chest burned.

"Please hurry."

He began to feel hot after a while, it felt like such a long time but he couldn't be sure because they'd taken his watch and he couldn't see anything. His eyes kept trying to make out things in the darkness but there was nothing. He just waited, and got hotter.

It became unbearable very quickly, the air in the coffin didn't move and he felt like he was suffocating and while his chest had stopped bleeding it throbbed so much he was sure it was infected. He supposed that it wouldn't really matter in the long run, just make things quicker. He was so tired, he kissed the tracker placed it by his head and let himself fall asleep.

He dreamt of Jack in her kimono doing traditional Japanese fan dancing and woke up laughing before turning his head to the other side and going back to sleep. This time it was Tom and Sabina, they were walking away from him down the road talking to that drug dealer he'd put in hospital. Shifting again the dream changed and now Jack was crying at the kitchen table with Mrs Jones standing over her.

"Sorry Jack."

He tried to touch her but couldn't, someone was pulling him backwards into darkness, he tried to fight them off but their grasping fingers were made of shadow and he couldn't break their hold. Yassen strode towards him blood staining the front of his shirt over his heart and raised a knife stabbing the person behind him and lifting him into his arms. When Alex looked back towards the shadowy thing he saw it was half man half woman, a horrific conjoining of Mrs Jones and Blunt that was dying in the darkness.

"Yassen?" he looked up at the man putting his hand over the blood stain. "Don't let them take me, don't let me die."

"I won't let them take you Alex."

"It hurts. It really hurts…"

There was low light when he opened his eyes, he felt light headed and weak.

"Alex?"

Someone was leaning over him touching his face. They were slipping in and out of focus like a disorientating dream.

"Please…" he stared up at him. "They buried me."

"I dug you up Alex."

"This isn't real." His eyes slid closed. "No one's coming for me, they've left me to die..."

"Alex? I'm getting you out of Lybia."

He was leaning against something warm and comfortable, he turned his cheek to it and curled closer.

"Don't go."


	4. Siwa

He could hear the sounds of a busy street, of children laughing and adults talking. No cars just voices. Someone was running their fingers through his hair, it felt nice. He turned towards the touch and pulled his knees up to his chest his arms around himself. They touched his ribs and then someone said something softly in a language he didn't know, voice full of concern, Russian maybe?

Russian?

Alex opened his eyes and stared at the man sitting on the bed.

"Yassen?"

He panicked mouth working faster than his brain as he pushed himself backwards.

"Where am I? What am I doing here." He fell off the side of the bed and landed painfully on the floor. "Ow."

He looked down at himself and swallowed it hurt because… "What have you done to me?"

"You had blood poisoning, you were unconscious for four days." He came around the bed crouching so they were at the same height. "Understandably you lost weight."

His legs were like sticks, his ribs protruded from his chest where there was a large wound patch he touched it-

"Alex don't-"

- and then pulled it off.

Scabbed skin over his scars from the sniper…

"What the fuck did you…" Alex frowned. "No it was him… the one with the knife." He stared at it a moment more and then put the patch back . "They buried me alive. How did you find me?"

"I heard that they'd captured some MI6 operatives, I heard that one of them was a boy. I checked all the MI6 tracking frequencies and found that there was one active in the middle of the desert."

"He kissed me."

"What?" Yassen's eyes narrowed. "Who kissed you?"

"The captain, he saved my life."

"So the operative is the captain?"

Alex swallowed and didn't answer, lowering his eyes. Even the bones in his feet and hands stuck out as he studied them, feeling his collar bones knock against his knees as he stared at the floor. He felt awful.

"Is there a shower?"

"Yes." Yassen indicated one of the two doors in the room and Alex tried to push himself to his feet unsuccessfully. He looked up at the assassin leaning against the chest of drawers beside the bed and took the hand that he subsequently offered letting him pull him to his feet and support him to the bathroom.

"Why am I so weak?"

He wrapped an arm around his waist and opened to the door to the bathroom. Alex gasped, blinking at his reflection in the mirror leaning against Yassen. He looked like a famine victim, his cheek bones stuck out his pallid skin stretched taut over them and the rest of his protruding bones. His chest and stomach were sunken and his arms and legs looked like sticks. Next to Yassen's muscular arm and broad shoulders he looked even worse than he felt he let his head rest on his shoulder.

"Am I going to be okay?"

He nodded. "I will get some food while you shower so you can eat when you get out." His arm slipped from around his waist and he resorted to leaning on the doorframe instead. "Can you manage?"

Alex nodded tearing his eyes from his emancipated form to look at his face in the mirror, Yassen was looking down at him from over his shoulder his eyes trailing down his back, he didn't look pleased. He looked up meeting his eyes and turned away leaving the room.

Perching on the side of the bathtub, which served also as the shower, while waiting for the water to run hot Alex hugged himself trying to get rid of the terrible empty feeling in his stomach. When the water was at least luke-warm he carefully stepped out of the unfamiliar boxers he was wearing and into the bath. Standing underneath it he found a lump of soap and rubbed it through his hair and all over him. When it had all washed off and the water was finally coming out hot he sunk down and sat in the bath resting his head on his arms and closing his eyes.

"Alex?"

He couldn't be bothered moving, even when Yassen turned off the water and shook his shoulder. He looked up at him and sighed before reaching for the towel he was holding up and standing, wrapping it around his waist.

"Are you hungry?"

He nodded and stepped out of the bath following him into the other room where two bowls stood on the tiny table off to the side filled with plain rice. Wrapped in his towel Alex sat down and started eating, at first ravenous and after two bites full. He forced himself to continue chewing slowly and methodicaly.

The room, he now saw, was quite small with sickly yellow painted walls and a bed which took up most of the space. Other than that the small table he was eating at was the only other furniture.

"Where am I?"

"Egypt."

"How did you get me across the border?"

"In the back of a truck."

Alex took another mouthful and chewed it mechanically sighing when he eyed the next lot on his fork. He felt tired and he hadn't done anything other than eat.

"Enough?" Yassen asked having finished a while ago.

"You have it I can't…" he yawned. "Finish it."

"You should go back to bed."

"No I'm fine I just…" he shrugged. "Feel a bit drowsy." He frowned and looked at him blinking franticly in an attempt to keep his eyes open. "You drugged me."

"I didn't." Yassen got up, pulled out his chair and lifted him to the bed. "Go to sleep Alex."

He rolled over pulling the covers with him and then rolled back and pulled them over the top of himself wriggling out of the damp towel and pushing it out of the bed. The linin of the sheets felt pleasant against his clean, bare skin as he shifted and found a position he liked his hair damp against his cheek and neck.

A weight changed the plane of the bed slanting it slightly to one side and as he fell asleep he felt something, like the ghost of a ghost slowly grace his skin. Then the covers were pulled up from his waist till they rested on his accentuated bottom rib and he fell into dreams.

Darkness.

Darkness like black without hope. He was lying on something hard and when he put out his hands to the side he found the same hardness barely an inch either side of his legs. He could feel his breath rebounding off something in front of his face and when he lifted his hands above him there was another surface. He let out a sharp breath and sucked back in hitting the surface again with the palms of his hands.

"God no." His voice filled the confined space. "Please."

"I've had this brilliant idea."

He froze at the voice that came from below his feet trying to pierce the blackness by raising his head as far as it would go and staring. He screamed as someone grabbed his ankles, fingers bony and hard and pulled. He couldn't fight them there wasn't enough room and as he slid down the coffin the wood on either side got closer till he couldn't move at all.

"Alex!"

He grabbed hold of the arms that were shaking him, pulling back the other way till he could move again, breath again. He dragged himself closer to the warm body behind him squeezing the arm to his chest.

"Don't let me go don't let me go."

"It was a dream Alex, it was just a dream."

Then blackness was gone replaced with the hotel room. He breathed against Yassen's arm that was wrapped around him over his left shoulder pressing the side of his face to it. He felt his breath on his neck as he looked down at him and squeezed his arm slightly shuffling backwards and fitting his back against his side.

It was dark outside, the room was lit from a dim lamp fixed to the wall that made everything that wasn't yellow appear so.

"Alright?" Yassen asked.

"I don't know." Alex whispered. "I thought I was going to die in that coffin."

"I thought you were dead when I found the upside down cross." He murmered it against his skin. "I suppose they were trying to send you to hell by marking your grave with the sign of the devil."

"So why did you dig me up?"

He didn't move and didn't answer for a good long while then shifted turning towards him and withdrawing his arm slowly. "You need to sleep."

"I don't want to." Alex leant forwards letting him go and wrapped his arms around his drawn up knees. He could pull his legs all the way into his chest, there was nothing in between, and comfortably rest his chin on them. He felt a little less incomplete that way.

"Why did they put you in the coffin Alex?"

"Because he was in love with Julia and he had to bury her, so he wanted to bury me or something like that."

"Jacob Rothman."

"He didn't tell me his name."

"He likes tattoos."

Alex hugged his knees tighter.

"And he also hated your father because Julia loved him more, even though he was her husband."

"Everyone just hated him didn't they…"

Alex put his mouth and nose to his knees so only his eyes showed beneath his blonde fringe. His back felt unprotected as he sat there, folded up. He wanted Yassen at his back again, irrational reasoning saying that if the Russian was there he wouldn't have another nightmare. His legs and arms felt even weaker than earlier the sudden rush of adrenaline leaving jelly instead of muscle behind when it had fled his system.

The covers were bunched at the bottom of the bed and he sat naked near the top though in this position Yassen couldn't see anything anyway.

"Sleep Alex." The assassin reached down and pulled the quilt up and over Alex pushing at his shoulder and making him uncurl and lie down. Alex turned on his side facing him his arm underneath his head eyes stubbornly open. Yassen settled with his back against the bed head next to him and after a moment's trepitadtion Ale turned over and shifted backwards till he could feel his leg against his back. As he fell asleep he felt his fingers run softly through his hair.


	5. MatrouhSeiwa

When he woke up Yassen's arms were around him, initially he panicked when he saw his black tee-shirt covered chest was where his head had spent most of the night but then he forced himself to calm down and work out a way of freeing himself from his unwanted embrace without waking him.

Where he lay, bare chest against Yassen's side and one of his legs hitched up so one of the assassin's legs was between his own, he could feel his thigh against his dick. He was cuddling him like a woman. Blushing he eased off to one side lifting his leg and resting it on his own. Only half the battle was won however, Yassen's arm was still around his shoulders, his hand resting on his ribs. Wincing at the fact that one hand was useless, trapped beneath his body, he peeled his hand from his skin and felt it drop to the bed.

Alex turned slowly onto his other hip and tried to shift himself from between the assassin's arm and chest but froze when Yassen moved with him turning onto his side and sliding a hand over his abdomen to rest his arm around his waist. He could feel the weave of his combat trousers against his bum, the warmth of his skin beneath his clothes and his breath on the back of his neck. Carefully he picked the Russian's hand up and shimmied out of his grasp sitting on the side of the bed and rising slowly before picking his way across the floor to a chair that had what looked like his clothing on it.

It was all washed, if not intact. There was a shirt with no buttons, jeans and shoes but no underwear. Flicking a glance to the still sleeping assassin he went to his duffle bag and slowly unzipped it trying to make as little noise as possible. When he'd finished with the zipper he looked at him again but he seemed to still be asleep. Inside there were two compartments, one filled with weapons and the other with clothing. He pulled out some underwear and some socks putting them on silently before reaching for his jeans and pulling them on as well. His shoes on he looked round for anything else and with a sinking feeling realised there was nothing else, and he didn't even know where in Egypt he was.

Staring at Yassen lying on his side he started formulating a plan: British embassy, hope they let me in because I speak English. That was it? He wasn't even sure where the embassy was. Still… He had this chance to get away from Yassen who had slipped into bed with him while he was naked. Naked! He'd been pressed against his leg for god's sake!

The door clicked ominously loudly when he closed it and he wasn't surprised when halfway down the corridor Yassen's voice called him back.

"Do you even know where you are?"

Alex stopped eyes wide.

"You've got no passport no phone no possible way of getting out of the country."

"I have a plan." That was a lie.

"I can get you back to England by tonight, in time to watch_ Eastenders_."

"Where am I?" he asked.

"The middle of the desert."

"Get myself to Cairo then and then the embassy."

"How? And even if you get there you have no passport no ID. Say you get in you'll still be waiting days to get out of the country the airports clogged with refugees and foreign nationals from Sudan. I can get you out today."

Alex huffed. "And what's the price of this deal? I sleep with you?"

He hadn't turned around, having your back to an enemy was never a good idea and now he felt that mistake as Yassen spoke in his ear having moved dangerously quickly from the door towards him.

"You weren't struggling against me last night."

"Rather taking advantage weren't you?"

"You didn't complain." He could feel his warmth on his back again. "Not at the time."

"What's the price for getting me back?"

"Nothing Alex. Nothing."

"I don't trust you."

"What do you think I'll do?" his voice was a rough murmur in his ear. "Rape you?"

Alex said nothing. He didn't know why Yassen had done what he had last night, held him like that, he couldn't guess his intentions at all. He was so close behind him he had to be almost touching him.

"If you want a price the price is you not telling MI6 I'm in the country."

"I can't do that, you might kill someone."

"I _will_ kill someone, whether you tell anyone or not but you'll be home for it not stuck on an Egyptian airport floor."

It was almost tempting but Alex walked away.

* * *

><p>He'd spent the last few days in the Shali Lodge, the arab man behind reception looked up at him with a frown as he entered the hall and greeted him in Arabic. Alex swallowed, greeted him back and then quickly walked to him.<p>

"Do you speak English?"

"Yes sir, you like directions to Cleopatra spring or the oasis?"

"No thanks, how do I get to Cairo from here?"

"A very long bus ride or you hire car."

"What about walking?"

"You cannot walk, too far."

"Where does the bus go from?"

"Go out turn left, then at the main road turn right. Bus stop on right."

"How much will it cost me?"

"Twenty pounds."

"Thanks."

He walked out of the hotel onto the dusty street.

To his right there was a yellow mosque straight ahead a mudbrick set of buildings set into the side of a hillock more rock than dirt. He walked to his left past more sun-bleached houses expecting to see at least a single car but there was no one, the place was deserted. It was a bit weird really, kind of like something from a horror movie. Perhaps any minute zombies would pour from the surrounding buildings… he laughed at the thought and turned right onto the main street. Still no cars and he was beginning to get thirsty.

Alex felt weak, like he'd lost a lot of blood but he guessed it had to be the weight loss. As he walked along, slowly, he wrapped his arm around his sunken belly feeling empty.

By the time he got to the bus station the weakness was more than just a nuisance he felt like he had to sit down and rest before he could go on. Just as he sat down on a bench near the little office something blared through the speakers he'd seen on every street corner. It was fast Arabic, faster than he could comprehend and then people started emerging from their houses and opening up their shops again.

It had to have been prayers. Alex wondered what the time was?

Shaking his head Alex approached the bus place as a man opened up the shutters.

"Hello?"

"Hello."

"I need to get a bus to Cairo."

"Okay, have your passport and money ready and I'll be with you in a moment."

His stomach was lined with tarmac, there would be no forgers in this small town and even if there were he would still need more money than he could pickpocket.

Alex heard a roar and turned to see a truck park up in the bus bay. Yassen sat in the back in the flatbed calmly watching him. No passport no money, Yassen's offer wasn't just tempting it was his only option.

He ignored Yassen's hand as he climbed into the back of the truck and sat with his back against the driver's cab looking out the back and watching Siwa disappear into the heat haze.

"It's five hour's drive to Iron Mine City a further six to Cairo."

"I thought you could get me out by tonight."

"My plane doesn't leave from Cairo."

Alex felt himself begin to sulk and huffed staring out at the desert sands like they'd done him a personal wrong.

"Here."

Alex ignored Yassen until he poked him with something that turned out to be a chocolate bar, he looked at it not wanting to take it because it was him that was offering it but also feeling so hungry and low that it was unbelievably hard to refuse. He took it and wolfed it down feeling better almost instantly.

The journey went on and on, he sighed as he saw the same piece of desert for the third time and slowly he found his eyes drooping as the never-changing landscape rolled by and the bumps of the road lulled him into daze. Just when he was drifting off the truck suddenly braked and then went over a bump on his side so large it threw him into Yassen and almost over the side. The Russian grabbed him and wrenched him back till he was straddling his legs hands on his shoulders, heart beating against his ribs with Yassen's arms tight around his waist. The driver shouted something in Arabic, possibly an apology, but the assassin ignored him entirely focused on Alex who was painfully aware of his position and the fact that the distance between them was small and came closer and farther apart with the bumps in the road. He took his hands off his shoulders going to move off him but the driver braked again sending him sliding forwards on his knees till he now sat in his lap and the consecutive bump had yassen's arms tighten around him again till their chests were pressed together. Yassen shouted something in Arabic over his shoulder and then in English to him.

"Are you alright?"

He nodded, fingers tangled in the net hung over the back of the drivers cab.

With every bump in the road he bounced up and down on his lap and could feel his crotch rub against his. He successfully extricated himself from his lap but found himself pulled against the Russians side.

"Let me go." He squirmed but the arm around him just tightened.

"You'll fall out."

"No I won't." He turned his head and glared.

Yassen's eyes dropped quickly to his lips and then he held his gaze for a few seconds before saying something in Russian that Alex barely heard let alone understood, he frowned trying to work out what he'd meant by his facial expression. He looked strangely… longing?

Yassen's whole body tensed against his back and he grabbed his head holding it still and forcing him to kiss him. Alex tried to pull away but found the arm that had been around his waist now encircled his arms pinning them to his sides. He struggled but the lack of sleep, the lack of food and everything else made him weak and there was no way out of his arms. So he bit Yassen's lip till he could taste blood and elbowed him hard in the stomach when his grip loosened diving for his bag, going for the section with the weapons in it. He scrabbled and kicked at Yassen as he tried to pull him away by his foot and grabbed the grip of a handgun turning and finding himself flattened under the Russian's weight.

Stalemate.

Alex's gun was pressed to Yassen's chest over his heart and Yassen's under his chin.

"Drop it." his lip was swollen and bloody and Alex could taste his blood in his mouth.

"You won't shoot me."

"Won't I?"

He didn't think so, Alex didn't even want to shoot him but he'd gone for the gun out of instinct; wanted something more than words to express the word stop. He wanted Yassen to just _stop_.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Because I wanted to."

"You're twenty years older than me."

"Does that matter?"

"Does it matter! It's illegal."

"So is assassination." He stroked his hair with his free hand.

"Don't! stop it." Alex pushed the gun hard into his chest to try and remind him it was there. "What the hell do you want from me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You follow me across the world to Taiwan, you keep saving my life but you work for the same people who want me dead. You say there's no price for helping me but you force me to kiss you. Why? Why are you doing this? Is it because I look like my father?"

Uttered at a shout to get over the truck's rattle and roar, eyes wide with confusion, stress and exhaustion Alex looked mad as he demanded an answer. Yassen stared at him for a moment before he put his gun away and supported himself on his hands either side of Alex's head.

"It's not because of that Alex."

Then they were sliding towards the drivers cabin as he braked and flew up in the air as the truck went over a bump. Alex's finger slipped and the gun went off in his hand. He dropped it.

"Oh fuck." He panicked putting his hand on Yassen's chest expecting to feel blood. "Yassen?"

His leg was on fire and he could feel a roaring in his ears but he focused on Yassen trying to see where he'd shot him.

Alex realised he was close to passing out when the Libyan sky turned black. He reached down and put his hand over his leg and blinked as it came away red with blood, the pain was excruciating, worse than when he'd been shot before and it was just aggravated by the bumps in the road.

"It's okay, it's a ricochet it's only about a centre-metre deep and it's not really bleeding."

Alex saw the world blur as shock set in but fought to stay conscious.

"Get me home."

The world went dark.

* * *

><p>"Chipped bone, and if you look here you can see the fractures spread all the way over to here…not too serious but very painful…given a sedative…he's very young…"<p>

Colours flashed and merged forming a picture, his father reconstructed from a photo.

"Dad?"

"Hello Alex." He voice was like Ian's but slightly deeper.

"I met Yassen."

"Good, because I have to go."

"What?"

"Goodbye." he waved and walked backwards into mist.

"Why are you going?" He tried to walk after him but a hand landed on his shoulder and paralysis seemed to spread, cold, from it's fingers.

"Alex your mission is as follows…" Blunt, holding him back while his father walked away.

"Get off me."

"You belong to us now, little spy."

"I don't want to be your spy, my dad…" the retreating figure smiled at him. "I want to go with him let me go."

Mrs Jones stepped between him and John. "I'm your parent now Alex,"

"Hey!" Jack ran in from the side with a Samurai sword in a ninja outfit but Mrs Jones pulled a gun from beneath her jacket and shot her turning back to Alex and offering a bowl of sweets. "Mint Alex?"

"Someone?" There was no one else "Yassen!"

"Alex?"

The hand on his shoulder melted away along with Mrs Jones and he blearily his vision cleared from white to black with what looked like lights moving across it, it looked like the roof of a car. He was lying in the back of a moving car at night and his whole body felt numb.

"We're just coming off the M4, I'm taking you to a hospital." Turning his head he saw Yassen looking back at him from the driver's seat.

"I'm in England?" his voice felt croaky and his throat raw.

"We're ten minutes away Alex."

He tried to move his legs but found he couldn't. "My legs, shit! I can't move my legs Yassen."

"Calm down Alex."

He couldn't breathe, he was paralysed? He'd never be able to walk, ride a bike…

"Why can't I move my legs!"

"The doctor in Egypt had to give you an injection in your spine, it was the only way to stop you… moving."

"I'm paralysed. Oh holy shit…" he sat up and touched his right leg but couldn't feel it.

"It's temporary. Calm down."

"Temporary?"

"It'll wear off in a couple of hours."

"Okay, okay…" he tried to slow his breathing and felt himself getting sleepy again as they pulled off the motorway and onto another road. "You said it was just a cut."

"I thought it was, when they x-rayed you they found that your leg's broken and fractured all the way up to your hip."

Alex started laughing, maybe it was the drugs but whatever it was the idea of his leg being that badly broken was suddenly hilarious.

"Alex?"

"I'm going to have one of those casts where they hang my leg in the air." He continued laughing and Yassen reached back and took his hand squeezing it.

"We're almost there, just hang on."

He just kept laughing. "Gonna look fucking hilarious."

Then he just lay there looking at Yassen's hand in his in the intermittent yellow of the street lights and stroked his thumb over the back of his hand

They pulled up on a dark street and the assassin let go of his hand getting out the car and opening the door by his head. He was still smiling as he looked up at him.

"You should laugh more often."

The smile faded from his lips, there were reasons he didn't smile as much as he used to. With the missions and the constant reminders of his past and throughout Jack so worried about him that when he came home she'd squeeze him so hard and for so long just to try and make sure he was actually there.

"I need to inject you with something to knock you out,"

"Why?"

"So that the hospital staff take you seriously when I put you down outside."

"Okay."

Yassen leant over him and took a pouch out of a bag in the well pulling a needle out of it.

"Yassen?" he looked at him. "I owe you for getting me out."

"You don't owe me anything Alex." He went to inject him but he stopped him.

"Wait. How long are you in England for?"

"A couple of days."

"Right, okay." Alex couldn't explain the slight sense of disappointment.

"Why? Are you intending on telling six I'm here."

"No, then I'd have to explain why you were on top of me in the back of that truck."

"Then why?"

"I just wanted to know."

Yassen frowned. "Get better, when I next see you I don't want to have to carry you anywhere."

Alex smiled. "I'll see you then."

"You sound like your looking forward to it."

"I'm not, knock me out."

The Russian smiled and stroked his head leaning close and kissing him, and as he passed out Alex half-imagined he kissed him back.

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	6. Ealing Hospital

When he woke it was to a grey light that came in through a window at the end of a long room, he was in one of the fourteen beds that lined the walls of the room.

"Hello?" A woman had come into view and now hurried to his side. "How are you feeling?"

"Where am I?"

"Ealing Hospital."

"Ealing hospital… Okay, that's okay." Alex looked down at himself and put a hand on his leg feeling a hard shell around it. "This is a cast right?"

"Yes, I'll go get the doctor."

She rushed off and returned with a tall man a few moments later.

"Right, you have a cast on but other than that you're okay." He sat on the side of the bed. "Something hit your leg here" he touched his leg. "and that part broke, but the force of the impact sent fractures over from here to here." He got up. "You can see it better on these."

From the end of his bed he pulled an x-ray film and held it up to the light pointing at various parts of his leg with a spider's web of white fractures on it.

"You're dosed up on painkillers You'll need to have the cast on for at least five weeks."

"Okay."

"There's just one problem."

"What's that?"

"What's your name?"

"My name?" Once he gave it MI6 would be here within an hour, they'd be asking him how he got here, if he remembered anything. He couldn't, not yet, he had to get his story straight. But what did he do? "Oh God."

He feigned unconsciousness looking down when the doctor opened his eyes and making his limbs limp as the nurse moved his arm.

"There's no visible head injury, he shouldn't have any amnesia unless he was given something before the morphine that didn't show up on the tox scans. As soon as he wakes up I'll send him for an MRI, meanwhile just keep checking in on him and keep him calm on the way for the scans."

"Alright,"

Alex fought with himself not to flinch as the doctor touched his chest.

"What is it?"

"I don't know." He pulled the sheets down to his waist and touched various other points on his chest. " When he was admitted I put the abrasions and the bruising down to the same incident that resulted in the fractures but… these three happened earlier and if you look at his hands he's got almost healed cuts here and here not to mention this scar… which looks, unbelievably, like a bullet wound."

"That near his heart?"

"He must have been incredibly lucky." And then there this." His fingers ran over the tender skin where Jacob Rothman had tattooed him. "It might be a gang related incident."

"You're suggesting…"

"I don't know what I'm suggesting would you go and get Doctor Jameson."

"From the morgue?"

"Yes."

Alex heard the nurse walk away and felt the doctors fingers run over yet more bruises muttering to himself.

"impact trauma…minor abrasion from handcuffs perhaps… track marks from numerous injections… faded bruising-"

Alex's eyes flew open and he grabbed the doctors hand as he pushed one of his ribs and pulled him over the bed ready to… do what? Hit him over the head with something? Shit!

"Woah! Hey it's alright…" he didn't struggle just looked at him. "You weren't unconscious."

"No."

"So no amnesia?"

"No, you can cancel the MRI."

"What's your name?"

"I can't tell you, not yet."

"Why not?"

Why indeed? MI6 had always taken care of him properly when he was injured before… Alex tried to imagine facing down Jones as she debriefed him in bed, he wanted to have something to say when he tried to explain to her how he got out of Libya.

"Because I want to have my story straight when they find me."

"Who's they? Some organisation?"

"You could call them that."

Alex could hear voices coming and assumed it to be the nurse and the other doctor. He grabbed the doctor by his collar and dragged him close.

"Help me, I only need a little time to think and I'll be okay. If they find me now I have no idea what they'll do to me."

"I cant, this is the welfare department's case now."

"Please."

The other doctor and the nurse entered the ward and Alex collapsed back onto the pillows waiting for the doctor to give him away.

"What is it Dr. Croft?"

"These injuries, I know it's harder to tell with the living but can to tell me if they were caused at different times."

They spent half an hour examining his body, on both sides.

"So what does all this mean?" Croft asked.

"Well, this is definitely a bullet wound, the other scars are consistent with fighting, specifically knives and fists, I say fighting because his fists show signs of scarring also." Alex didn't like the way the other doctors fingers felt on his skin, cold and rubbery. "After this injury" he touched his leg "he saw a doctor, which is evident from the spinal injection have you looked at the surgery notes?"

"No."

"The wound in his leg showed signs of some amateur surgery before the professional stitching, specifically to remove something. I'd say whatever caused the injury."

"So he's been shot, stabbed and injected by someone and someone's dug around in his leg for something."

"Yes, and as you recognised these injuries are not all recent. They span a few weeks, ones before that are healed over."

"Thanks."

"Glad to help, is this the one left outside A&E?"

"Yeah, security shows a guy in a balaclava putting him down. No one saw anything."

"They never do, do you want to have a coffee?"

"I think I'll read those surgeon's notes."

The other doctor left and Croft sat there silent until he was out of hearing distance.

"So what did they dig out of your leg?"

"Cant tell you." Alex put one arm behind his head.

"Was it a bullet?"

"I don't remember."

"When did you get shot in the chest?"

"About a year ago."

"Why?"

"I don't remember."

He got up. "I'll contact welfare if you don't start giving me answers."

"I can't tell you, I signed a contract."

"What?" he sat down again staring at him wide eyed. "Contract, you mean like the government?"

Alex stayed silent.

"Do you mean the official secrets act?"

"Bingo."

"I don't believe you."

"Then contact welfare, see how fast I get taken away in an unmarked van."

"If that's the case then why not let them know where you are? Wont they take care of you?"

He looked towards the window. "I have to try and explain how I got here."

"Why is that a problem?"

"I'm not talking about just a trip around the M25."

"You've got a severely broken leg, they'll understand."

"No they won't."

"Why?"

His questions were starting to annoy him. "because the last time I was on the grid with MI6 I was buried alive in the Libyan desert. The man who saved my life…"

He trailed off remembering suddenly with alarming clarity Yassen's lips against his. Fuck, he'd kissed him back!

"The man who saved your life?"

"I've told you far too much already." Alex realised he was sitting up, and rubbed his eyes and then looked at the doctor disguising the panic he could feel welling inside him. "just give me till tomorrow, I can deal with it if I just get my story straight."

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Jesus."

Alex sighed and suddenly knew what to do.

"Can you find me a phone?"

"Use mine." He handed over his mobile.

He rang home.

Jack answered on the fifth ring, she sounded awful.

"Hello?"

"Jack it's me."

"Alex!"

She started crying.

"Jack I'm sorry, I'm okay."

"Where are you?"

"Ealing hospital."

"Did MI6 find you? Why didn't they let me know?"

"They didn't find me Jack," Alex swallowed. "I'm in some shit."

"What do you mean?"

"Will you come here?"

"Of course."

"Don't tell MI6."

"I'll be there in half an hour."

"Okay, ring back this number, a Doctor Croft will come meet you at reception."

"Alright. I'll try and hurry."

"Drive carefully okay."

"Yes, I will."

He hung up and stared at the phone for a second before giving it back to the doctor.

"Was there anything else that came in with me?"

"Your clothes, they're washed and here." He passed them to him. "you trousers are un-repairable but your underwear's still intact along with your shirt."

Alex laughed softly. "Thanks."

"I'll have you moved a single room, amnesia patients often are."

"Thank you."

The same nurse came to help him into a wheelchair, he put on a lost face.

"Don't worry, I'm sure it'll all come back." She let him lean on her as he transferred himself from the chair to the new bed in a small room off another corridor.

Jack must have driven very fast because she arrived twenty minutes after he rang and Croft escorted her to his bedside. She burst into tears at the sight of him and wrapped her arms around him crying into his shoulder.

"They said you'd gone missing. The agent they sent after the two of you said they'd buried you in the desert." She squeezed him.

"Ah Jack that hurts!"

"Sorry." She let him go but kept hold of his arm.

"Its okay just watch the ribs." He sat up a little more and the sheets pooled around his waist showing her the full extent of his injuries

"You look even worse than usual," she stopped and swallowed. "What did they do to you Alex?"

She was staring to the scorpion over his heart.

He looked at the doctor.

"I'm not leaving, if I leave she leaves."

"I can't trust you."

"Doctor patient confidentiality agreement, your my patient I'm your doctor if I say a word you can take me to court."

"I won't be alive to take you to court."

Croft just sat there.

"Fine but don't ask any questions, we haven't got much time as it is."

"Alright."

He turned to Jack and tried to speak in terms where Jack would understand but the other guy wouldn't.

"They knew we were coming before we'd even left Benghazi, they stopped us at the checkpoint into Tripoli but let us in trapping us. They picked us up from the hotel that night and took us to this detention facility and started torturing the other agent. They were going to kill me but he saved my life told them that Scorpia would want me, turns out the one who did the torturing was MI6 undercover he planted a tracker on me just as Scorpia came to get me and then they took me out into the desert did this." He pointed at his chest. "And buried me in the desert. Alive."

Her hands came up to cover her mouth. "Oh Alex, they sent an agent to find you but he must have thought you were dead..."

He shook his head. "I waited for hours but in the heat and I guess from the blood poisoning I went into a delirium. When I wake up I'm in a hotel room in Egypt…"

"Who?" Jack asked.

Alex shifted, looking at Croft. "the same person who killed…" he indicated there was an end to the sentence.

Jack frowned. "I don't understand."

"The one who started all this."

"Blunt?"

"No." Alex, frustrated looked to Croft. "If you know this your just endangering yourself, please, just leave."

"I wont."

"If you let any of this slip I'm a dead man you're a dead man and you kill her as well."

"I wont, when they come I'll make sure I'm not even on duty."

Alex huffed and looked around the room seeing no cameras, the blinds on the windows had been shut and the door was locked.

"It was Yassen, he dug me up and got me to Egypt."

"Alex he's dead."

"He's not, he found me in Taiwan. I thought he wanted to kill me at first but now…"

_No Alex it's not because you look like your father. _Fuck, he'd kissed him back.

"Alex why didn't you tell MI6?"

"Because I owe him, he saved my life on Air force one and on top of the Sayle industries building."

"How did he know where you were?"

"I don't think he has a problem finding people if he wants to… I don't know… He tells me he can get me back to England, I refuse but I don't have any papers and I've got no other choice picks me up in this truck. He said something, I don't remember what, and we end up fighting in the back of this pick-up and as we go over a bump the gun I'm holding goes off and the bullet ends up in my leg. I don't remember anything after that till I wake up in the back of a car on the M4. He's driving me to a hospital and then injecting me with something… then it's today."

"Alex…" she buried her face in her hands.

"Jack what do I do? If I tell them that they'll want to know details, what he said to me, what information I gave him. What if they try and use me to get to him? He's supposed to be dead and the reason he hasn't been working is because he wants it to stay that way. How can I betray him after that? But if I don't tell them how am I going to explain how I got out of Libya?"

"Tell them you don't remember anything after passing out in the coffin." Croft picked up his arm and counted the number of needle marks. "There are five puncture points in your arm, with the right drugs someone could keep you knocked out for ten days with these, plus the evidence of the use of a needle in your spine."

"A needle in your spine?"

"Yassen got me to a doctor in Egypt… Would that be plausible?"

"Definitely,"

"It's going to drive them mad not knowing who it was, but I just have to play it right when they debrief me." He yawned.

"You should sleep," Croft said.

"Yeah I will, I've got about an hour before Jones gets here once you've entered my name into the system."

"What name would that be?"

"Alex Rider."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Doctor James Croft. I'll put those in just before I go off duty in fifteen minutes."

"Thanks." Alex shook his hand.

* * *

><p>"After that I don't remember anything. I didn't think anyone was coming for me."<p>

Mrs Jones was sat beside his bed, Jack had gone to get some coffee.

"Our agent at the prison sent his contact after your tracker signal, he risked blowing his cover to do it. When he got there he found a grave and well… we don't repatriate from countries like Libya."

"I get that… but someone must have known I was still alive down there. Someone from Scorpia?"

"Perhaps."

"Don't you have any idea?"

"We'll try and find out who it was from the surveillance and from the people entering and exiting the country."

"I must have been out for days… What the hell happened to my leg?"

"We'll need you to have a full body examination within the hour to see what clues they left behind."

"Full body examination…" Alex winced. "I don't like the sound of that."

"It's for your own good, one of our men will be in shortly to do it and then you'll be free to go home."


	7. Rottingdean

Alex sat with his arms around himself in the passenger seat of Jack's car, he could still feel the man's probing fingers encased in latex touching his skin and… He shivered.

"Are you okay Alex?"

"Yeah, just not very nice feeling having a guy taking pictures of your entire body and… Ergh."

Jack nodded and sighed. "But you're off the hook."

"Yeah, I am. And they can't send me anywhere till my leg's healed."

"A break, and you don't even have to go to school. We could plan some things… we can't go abroad but… you know. We could have some fun."

"I'd like that." Alex smiled.

* * *

><p>After six weeks his cast came off having been replaced three times so his stitches could be checked and cleaned. Alex walked gingerly on his thin leg finding that it clicked and protested in the first week but began to become stronger with more use. He'd put on most of the weight he'd lost in Lybia and walked around the block twice a day in the sun. More fun were Jack's planned outings that were always outrageously silly and effortlessly entertaining.<p>

They took the train down to Brighton when the waves were predicted to be two metres high and then took the bus to Rottingdean, the name of which Alex wasn't too fond of. The town itself looked sleepy and as they got off the bus it was deserted.

"Jack why are we here?" Alex shouted over the wind.

"You'll see!" she shouted back and led him down a street towards the beach.

The shops he walked past looked a little run down and the café on the end was empty apart from the girl who worked there who stood, sullen, behind the counter, flanked by the prices for different coffees.

"A guy took me here the other week, it's great!" Jack led him down some steep steps and they emerged onto a concrete walkway that lined the white cliffs, the waves hit the concrete hard and sent sprays of water high into the air.

It was a game; could you time it right that you could walk along the edge without getting wet, how long could you stand leaning on the railing while a wave approached ready to soak you.

One part of the concrete walkway extended out twenty metres into the sea, Jack dared him that he couldn't get to the end and survive one wave without getting wet. He ran down the concrete and stood at the end watching the next wave coming towards him.

It looked huge. He turned to run but his arm was attached to the railing, fucking handcuffed? He realised that Yassen stood there in half a second and what he meant to do, unbelievable as it was. He grabbed him, arm around his waist and used everything he had to slam him against the railings and pin him there with his body using him as a shield for the huge spray of water that hit them.

Looking up after the deluge through his wet fringe Alex couldn't work out what to do for a second when their eyes met, then he started patting his pockets franticly trying to find the key. Yassen tried to push him away but he threw his body at him and they crashed back into the railing. The key was in the outside pocket of his jacket, he pulled it out and shoved his shoulder into Yassen's chest as he unlocked it. He didn't even realise he'd been laughing like a maniac for the entire time until he skipped out of his reach and Yassen stood there handcuffed like he'd been. Still laughing he made out like he was going to eat the key and then started running when the Russian drew a handgun.

Jack was half way up the concrete walkway looking confused and worried.

"Who is that Alex?"

"Run; he's wet and pissed off."

There was a shot and he flinched running with Jack to the main walkway yelping when an arm wrapped around his waist and his own move was used against him, he was swung around and hit in the face with a whole load of sea water. Spluttering he found himself backing into Yassen who was laughing in his ear, arms around him.

"Revenge is sweet."

Alex spat out the sea water and turned, Yassen's hands slid from around him to his arms where he held him loosely just above his elbow. The way he was looking at him scared him a little, his icy eyes studying him, but he couldn't help but smile; even the idea of the assassin doing something so childish was funny.

"Alex? What's going on?"

Had Yassen seen Jack? Had she just been another person in a raincoat? They'd never met… Yassen would know what she looked like Alex had no doubt about that but… Of course he knew she was here, he'd probably followed them here from Chelsea. Still, he didn't like Yassen being around Jack, he might hurt her. He stepped out of Yassen's grip towards Jack, standing between them, standing in his way. He read the move straight away, Alex knew he did because he backed off slightly.

"Jack Starbright Yassen Gregorovich."

Her mouth dropped open and she stepped forwards as if to pull Alex away from him, then she set her jaw.

"You killed Ian, but you also saved Alex… Thank you."

She extended a hand and Alex found himself staring at it, what the hell was she doing? Yassen stepped forwards and shook it and it seemed like the most socially bizzare thing to do, not something that normal people did every day.

Yassen didn't reply, he was watching Jack with an expressionless face. Alex couldn't think of a thing to say but wanted to break the silence.

"Err… Shouldn't we go?" he said to Jack.

"Yes." She turned slightly to allow him to fall into step beside her, Alex froze tense beyond anything as he felt Yassen's hand curl around his wrist and hold it while he spoke in his ear. _He'd kissed him back!_

"Be in on Tuesday evening."

The words made his blood run cold, Tuesday evening, that was only the day after tomorrow. Yassen let go of his arm but let his fingers trail through Alex's as he walked away in the opposite direction. His skin shouldn't be tingling, his stomach shouldn't tighten at that. What the hell? Just because it was the first time in months someone had touched him apart from Jack…

"Alex are you alright?"

"Yeah, it's just he comes out of nowhere." Alex shivered. "The bastard got me wet!"

"You were laughing…"

"Yeah, I know…" Alex glanced behind him but the assassin was gone. "It's screwed up."

"Has he given you any idea why he does it?"

"It's something to do with my father, he thinks he owes him… Owes his memory…"

"Are you scared of him?"

Alex looked at his feet. "A bit, yeah. When I see his gun or when he's close enough to kill me with his hands." _When he looks at me like he'd like to kiss me, when he speaks in Russian and I don't know whether he's saying the weather's nice or if he likes my eyes._

"Alex I wish you could just leave all this behind."

"So do I."

"I'm grateful but… I don't like the fact that he should _have_ to save your life."

"Sorry Jack."

"It's not your fault." She wrapped an arm around him.

"I had fun today, the waves were amazing."

"They were pretty good…" She smiled. "He gives me the shivers Alex."

"Who? Yassen?"

"Yeah, the proper bajeezers."

Alex laughed. "Let's go home, I need a shower."

On the way back they almost fell asleep on each other while the train rocked from side to side, Alex staring out the window into the sunny countryside. He could still feel his touch on his skin as he ran his fingers over his wrist, it didn't look any different but it felt like it'd been charged. He couldn't stop looking at it even when he was lying in bed that night, he held it up in the yellow of the streetlamp and examined it before letting it drop to the pillow beside his head and closing his eyes to the sight of it.


	8. Chelsea

The weather turned horrid and it rained constantly for the whole of Monday. Stuck inside he was constantly thinking about Yassen, his whispered command. _Be in on Tuesday evening._ Going over it in his head while he was curled up on the couch with his duvet watching T.V. He wanted Jack out of the house but he didn't know how he was going to do it, suggesting she go out with her boyfriend had been the plan but they were having a fight, any other reason for him to suggest that she go out would sound suspicious. Then throughout all this was the feeling that someone had inserted a pitchfork into his belly and was slowly twisting it because he was almost terrified of what Yassen might do.

That night, staring at the ceiling of his room, watching the distant street light filter through his bedroom window Alex found himself drifting off thinking about how it had felt in the back of that car… When Yassen had kissed him… The way he'd ran his fingers through his hair while his lips moved against his, the _barest hint of something more aggressive behind the slight pressure. Yassen's tongue traced his lips and slipped between them to meet his own, it was so slow, like he was following a plan. A hand pushing beneath the borrowed shirt and gracing over his skin…_

Alex woke up with a gasp finding himself hard, he buried his face in his hands fingers clenched in his hair. It was wrong, how could he be aroused thinking about his uncles killer? A mass murderer no less. He lay back down and tried to think of Sabina, Angelina Jolie anyone female, good looking and naturally attractive to him but the feeling of Yassen's arms around him wouldn't go away. What kind of sick individual must he be to be getting off on _his_ hands. His hands that could kill him or touch him like he had in Egypt, light caresses that calmed him down, or didn't. Alex screwed his eyes shut and came to a guilty conclusion; no one would know if he did…

Yassen's lips on his collarbone, around one nipple, tracing his ribs slowly making his way down to his cock. He'd take it in his mouth, at first only the head then he'd slowly take more and finally swallow him.

Alex had never come so quickly by his own hand, he lay there sweaty and sated for a minute and then began to think over his actions. The horror of it began to dawn on him.

"What did I just do?"

He buried he face in his pillow but the wetness of the sheet against his thigh was a sticky reminder and there was nothing he could do to wipe away that sickening feeling that he'd just done something so _wrong._

* * *

><p>Jack was worried in the morning, she could tell he hadn't slept even though he'd showered and tried to appear awake. He assured her it was nothing, just restlessness, but he was apathetic all morning lying listless on the couch or walking around the kitchen looking in cupboards or the fridge despite the fact he wasn't hungry.<p>

"Alex have you gone for a walk today?" Jack asked.

"No." he said staring out the window at the rain.

"You didn't go out yesterday…"

"Okay, okay I'll go." He got up and sighed before shrugging on a jacket.

"I'm going out food shopping, is there anything you want?"

"Can we have curry?"

"Sure."

"Cool." Alex grabbed a key. "I'll see you when you get back."

He headed off around the block and waved at Jack as she drove past. He still hadn't solved the problem of how he was going to get her out of the house, Yassen was coming for him like a bloodhound and he sensed that if he wanted to see him Jack wouldn't stand in his way for long. Halfway around the block he was wet and cold and his leg began to ache, he rubbed it as he walked and - swearing - started to limp. The pain was so bad as he got back to the house that he was almost hopping through the door. When he got it open he pulled his jumper and shirt over his head, standing on one leg as he tried to get his shoe off, his foot got caught on his other trouser leg and he fell. He fully expected to hit the floor, hard, but instead found himself caught.

Jack wasn't that strong.

"Why didn't you wear something waterproof?"

Yassen, he was in Yassen's arms again. Shit! How did he just appear like that? And his hands were on his bare skin, he twisted and writhed wrenching himself from his grip and glaring. Angry and trapped and very aware that last night he'd… Don't think about it!

"What are you doing here? You said tonight."

His demand had no effect on the other man who replied, dead-pan. "I wanted to see you," The assassin looked him over, head to toe, while Alex stood there shivering in his sodden trousers. He could see his gaze linger over the tattoo and winced as another throb of pain went up his leg and rubbed it. "And I thought that you would prefer to see me alone, does it hurt?"

"No."

"It's the cold, it makes broken bones ache."

"It doesn't hurt." Alex just stood there for a moment trying to work out what to do, Yassen Gregorovich was standing in his hallway, the same way countless friends had done, waiting for him to lead him further into the house. Ian's house. "Don't turn up when Jack is around again."

"I won't."

"Good."

Alex waited for him to say whatever he had to say, he wasn't leading him any further inside. He'd come here with a purpose, a strategy. It was his move.

"You should take them off, letting your leg get any colder will just make the ache worse."

"It doesn't hurt."

Alex felt his patience begin to wane, he wanted Yassen to get it over with, ask him what he wanted, tell him what he wanted to he could sit down and take the weight off his leg.

"What is it? What did you come here for?"

"You already asked me that."

"You didn't give me an answer.

Yassen stepped towards him and he took a step back onto his right leg feeling it buckle underneath him. As he stumbled the assassin lunged forwards and swept his feet from underneath him entirely.

"Shit, get off! Put me down!" He pushed at his arms and moved his legs arching his back until he was dumped on the couch and he sprang back up legs and arms flailing and kicking against the sofa to push him up against the armrest, away from the assassin who sat at the other end.

There was a moment where they faced off, blue against brown - Yassen's with ice and Alex's with an edge sharpened by pain. Yassen leant back, dropping his eyes over his body taking in his posture; hands flat against the sofa one foot drawn up, poised to spring from the sofa and do his best to evade him. However, he also didn't want to give him the satisfaction of chasing him. Because he would catch him easily.

"What did you tell MI6?" Yassen relaxed into the sofa, Alex stared at him a little longer before pulling his legs a bit further away from him and giving an answer. If he co-operated perhaps he'd get bored and leave.

"According to their records I remember nothing after Jacob buried me in the desert."

"How did they believe that?"

"The needles you jabbed in my arm left their mark." He said, knowing it was irrational so say something like that with so much venom when without the drugs he would have been screaming with pain. They were gone now, the bruises from the shots, the marks over his shoulders the welts from the Libyan handcuffs. Thin white scars haunted his skin instead and the tattoo stood out from his skin like a hologram.

"They let you go just like that?"

"No, a guy came and stuck his fingers everywhere and took pictures of everything just in case you left any clues."

"Everywhere?" Yassen's eyes were narrowed.

"Yes, everywhere." He looked down at his leg, picking the rough weave of his jeans.

"Alex…" he reached out.

"Don't," he flinched backwards. "Just don't."

He settled back retracting his hand, face once again blank. "You've put on weight."

"Yes, it's been almost impossible to try and get fit though…" He rubbed his thigh through his wet trousers.

"How is it?" he indicated his leg.

"Fine."

"Can I see?"

"No."

His hand shot out Alex met it with his own digging his nails into his wrist, his thumb was over the entry point of the bullet. He waited for Yassen to squeeze, to dig his fingers into the sensitive area and hurt him. Instead he could feel the tendons in his wrist flex as he moved is thumb in slow circles that seemed to soothe the ache far more effectively that his own fingers. Even as he tried to get himself to push him away his fingers were loosening around his wrist.

He was losing, losing badly.

"Did you tell MI6 I was alive, after Taiwan…"

"What?" Alex realised he had his eyes shut and opened them, wincing as Yassen dug his thumb in and pushed the muscle about and then saying. "No."

"Why?"

"Cause- Ow." Alex tightened grip grip on his wrist deepening the crescent shaped marks made by his fingernails. Yassen froze.

"Does that hurt?"

"Just not so hard." He loosened his grip and Yassen took his thigh between both hands and rolled it slowly between them.

"Cause what?"

"You saved my life."

"And since then?"

"MI6 don't know you're alive Yassen." His other hand shot to his with a hiss as he rubbed over the still scarring cuts from the surgery. "It's still healing there." He moved his hands a bit further up his leg and let them go sighing; aware he'd lost control of the situation like a child watching a helium balloon float into the sky.

"There?"

"Yeah." He let his head rest against the back of the chair. "Or at least not from me."

Yassen lifted his leg and moved even further along the couch towards him and then let it rest over his own. Alex watched him his eyes wary but didn't stop him, bending his other leg so his foot was underneath his thigh biting his lip as the assassin manipulated the healing muscle with his fingers.

"It would work better if you took these off." He pulled at the wet material of his jeans, Alex just relaxed into the seat shaking his head.

"Not a chance."

Yassen took out a knife and put it to the material. "Woah what the fuck, I like these!" He grabbed his hand saving his trousers. "You'll go to any measure…"

The assassin shook his head. "I'm just trying to help."

"Bullshit."

"Take them off and prove me wrong."

Alex let out a burst of incredulous laughter. "No, cause I loose out either way. I get molested or you get to say you were right."

"Alex if I wanted to molest you, you couldn't stop me."

He shifted a little in his seat the statement sending a tiny jolt a fear to his heart, then suddenly he found it utterly hilarious. He suppressed a smile and then burst into laughter. Yassen looked at him like he was mad.

"Was that you trying to talk me into taking my trousers off? Cause I really feel I can trust you now after that lovely reminder."

Slowly the assassin smiled. "You're insane."

"Possibly." He looked at Yassen's hands that just rested on his leg, heavy and warm. "Why are you really here?"

"I'm here to see you."

"You only ever turn up when I'm in danger."

"What am I doing here then?"

"Manipulating me."

"To what end?"

"To your end."

"I don't want anything from you but your time Alex."

"No one _ever_ approaches me unless they want something."

Yassen blinked and then squeezed his leg gently. "I _wanted_ to check if you were okay."

Alex looked into his eyes expecting to see dissemblance or at least some hint of deception, he only saw the barest trace of something genuine he looked down. "I don't believe you."

"Fine, I wanted to see that you were alright and I wanted to see if you remember what happened in the back of that car in the hospital."

As soon as he tensed up he wished he hadn't, that was as sure a sign as any that he did remember.

"What happened?"

"You remember."

"Remember what?"

"You remember."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're very tense."

"Just means I'm scared, not that I'm lying."

"Why would you be scared unless you're lying?"

"Because, as you so aptly said, if you want to do something to me I can't stop you."

"What do you think I want to do to you?"

"Kill me." Alex swallowed. "Kiss me."

"Which one are you more scared of?"

Yassen turned his body towards him bringing his right knee up and sliding it into the triangle he'd created by resting his injured leg on his other foot. He could feel his combat trousers rub against his jeans transferring friction straight through his underwear to his skin as he moved his weight to his knee and hovered over him planting his right hand by his head and pulling out his gun with the other. Alex pushed himself into the armrest eyes wide as he settled his weight on top of him and pushed the muzzle of the gun underneath his chin and making him look straight up at him.

"Make a decision Alex, do you want me to kill you or kiss you?"

Alex could see the safety was off, the barrel was warm from being in the back of his trousers. He was playing Russian Roulette with an automatic. He swallowed and ran his fingers up his forearm to the gun laying his hand over Yassen's.

"Kill me."

Yassen pulled the trigger but it was an empty click not a shot that seemed to echo in the silence that followed. Alex head-butted him and rolled him over, the two of them crashing into the floor with him on top, he slammed his wrist into the coffee table making him release the gun and took it in both hands.

"You pulled the trigger, you pulled the fucking trigger!"

"You put the safety on."

"You pulled the trigger!"

Alex flicked the safety off and fired straight at his head, another empty click greeted him. It hadn't fired, why hadn't it fired?

"It's not loaded?" Alex slid the magazine out and it dropped onto Yassen's chest, just plastic. "It's not fucking_ loaded_…" He threw the gun and it clattered to the floor and slid to a stop in front of the front door. Then, overwhelmed, he buried his face in his hands and sobbed. "It's not fucking loaded…"

Yassen sat up and wrapped his arms around him, Alex buried his face in his shoulder and squeezed him as tight as he could.

"Why are you doing this to me?" He was shaking, crying and sobbing uncontrollably he felt like he'd been broken in half and the jagged pieces were being rubbed together. "Why?"

Yassen didn't answer, he turned his body so he could lean against the sofa and held him while he cried arms around his waist fitting them together so that everything touched and locked into place. His whole world melted down into the way his jacket smelled and felt beneath his clenching fingers. Yassen hadn't meant to kill him, just scare him but because of the safety he hadn't known. He'd pulled the trigger thinking there were bullets in it, he'd pulled the trigger to kill.

Alex pulled back a bit, forehead still to his shoulder and took a huge shaky breath feeling Yassen's fingers stumble up his spine to his hair, then he rested his head on him looking away.

"I thought you'd done it."

"I know."

"I would have killed you."

"I know."

"Was that some kind of test?"

"No."

Something wet hit his shoulder and he sat back touching it and smearing blood over his skin, Yassen's nose was bleeding.

"You have a nice head butt."

"Thanks."

"I have a fifteenth birthday present for you."

"You're a bit late."

"I know."

Alex wasn't sure what he was expecting and just stared at him as he pulled something out of his coat pocket wrapped in crumpled bright blue wrapping paper. He took it, it felt heavy in his hand long and flat. He carefully ripped the paper off revealing a knife, the handle was mahogany and had been worn and scratched in a few places, the blade itself was flawless.

"Your father gave it to me when he finished training me."

Alex blinked and another tear rolled down his cheek.

"You're giving this to me?"

"Yes, look at what it says." He took it and turned it over, on the blade there was a sentence engraved.

_I'll watch your back when I can, when I can't use this. - John -_

He ran a finger over the writing staring at the name: _John._

"What was he like?"

"He knew when to help and when to let you work it out for yourself, he only praised you if you really deserved it, he was ruthless when he needed to be, kind when the situation called for it… He was my only true friend who I knew wouldn't betray me."

"Is this the last thing he gave to you?"

"The only thing apart from this." He held up his hand twisting the ring on his ring finger.

Another tear rolled down his cheek, he wiped it away sniffing and swallowing. "Thank you." Alex closed up the knife and held it tight. "Sorry."

Yassen wiped a thumb over his cheek and took his face between his hands. Alex knew he was going to kiss him but couldn't, after what he'd just given him, bring himself to push him away. When his lips were against his it felt good, slow and undemanding not like when they'd been in the back of that truck. He found himself leaning into it still holding his father's gift to Yassen and opening his mouth when his tongue traced his lips. When he ventured his own tongue forward and they met he felt his whole chest tighten, he tasted like… well saliva he supposed but also blood. There was nothing false in there like chewing gum or spice just a slight coppery tang and it was so intense his imagination hadn't done the tingles his felt when his hands were on his skin justice. It was like comparing a watercolour to a photo.

"Alex!"

He sprung backwards and got to his feet just as Jack came into view, his heart was racing. He felt like the fact that he'd just been kissing Yassen was written on his forehead.

"Why is there a gun on the fl- oh my God!"

"It's okay Jack,"

Yassen got up and stood next to him. "Except I think he may have broken my nose, do you have a first aid kit somewhere?"

She stood gaping at him for a moment and then nodded walking into the kitchen Alex went to follow but Yassen turned him around and rubbed his face by his nose. He looked in a mirror on the wall in the hallway and saw that he had blood on his face from where they'd been kissing.

"Shit." He swore softly and licked his fingers rubbing it off as he walked into the kitchen.

Jack had placed the first aid kit on the counter and was watching Yassen as he took a patch from the kit and wiped the blood from his face looking in a mirror.

"Perhaps not broken then." He said to himself. While he was looking away Jack was mouthing at him: _What happened_? He mouthed back _He just turned up_. She pointed to her nose. _Why did you punch him?_

"He head-butted me actually."

She froze staring at him, Alex could have predicted that he was going to do something like that.

"Why?"

"For no reason." Yassen ran a finger down his nose.

"Hey! There was a reason…"

Yassen turned to him waiting to see what he was going to say, Alex realised he couldn't tell her anything.

"What reason?"

Alex shrugged weakly glaring at Yassen and mouthing _leave_.

"What's that in your hand Alex?"

He looked down at the knife.

"Yassen gave me a birthday present."

Jack looked from him to Yassen who now looked normal as if his nose hadn't previously been bleeding.

"I just passed something on. I have to leave but if I could just borrow Alex for one moment more…" He smiled at Jack and took Alex's wrist.

"It's okay Jack…" He assured her as Yassen pulled him from the kitchen into the living room out of sight. As soon as Jack couldn't see them the assassin kissed him, hungry and ferocious, it took his breath away.

"Stop" he whispered pushing at his chest. "She could see us, hear us."

Yassen pulled away eyes narrowed. "I'll see you soon." He went to walk away.

"Wait," Alex caught his shoulder and his blue eyes met his. "Thank you."

The assassin leant in and gave him one last kiss speaking against his lips. "You're welcome."

Walking away he spared him a backwards glance where he stood in the corridor dried tears on his face, his lips were on fire.

When he returned to the kitchen Jack was sitting at the counter. "Did you apologise?"

"Did I _what_?"


	9. Putney

He couldn't get it out of his fucking head. Jack had noticed, she really definitely had noticed what with all the staring into space for minutes on end. The thing that was bothering him, the black hole that sucked all other thoughts away was Yassen. Yassen bloody Gregorovich. Yassen kissing him, Yassen underneath him, Yassen on top of him, Yassen's hands on his hips…

"Do you want to go out today?" Jack asked.

"Yeah."

"Cinema?" She asked.

"Sounds good."

They'd both silently decided that an action film with lots of flying bullets and explosions was not what they wanted to watch. Instead they decided on a comedy about a woman who moved to Tuscany. The movie was alright, it had a few laughs in it and was innocent in a way that relaxed Alex. In reality he wasn't truly watching the film, he was using it to rid himself of half of his active mind. With the other half he looked inward, thinking about the knife about its cold blade with its writing.

Jack said she needed the loo halfway through and went. A man sat down on the other side of him and he shifted slightly away from him glancing at him taking in his clothing. Jeans and a tight Black tee-shirt. Shit!

"I just came to say goodbye, I'm leaving the country tonight." Yassen breathed in his ear, he blinked fighting down a rising feeling in his stomach; panic and euphoria.

He turned his head to whisper back. "Where are you going?"

"Back to Libya."

Alex nodded. There was a moment when floating music washed over them from the forgotten film and then Yassen leant forwards and put his hand on his leg and squeezed gently, it made Alex's heart stutter. "Keep your finger off the trigger next time."

He glared at him. "What makes you think I didn't just miss?"

"Because you looked mortified when you thought you'd shot me."

"I wasn't."

"You were." He smiled the light from the movie hitting his cheekbones and his nose but throwing the other half of his face in shadow. "You know it was a lot of hassle getting you back to England."

"What do you want? Expenses?"

"Precisely."

Alex made a noise of protest as Yassen wound his fingers into his hair and pressed their lips together feeling hot and cold shivers run in waves over his skin. Something deep in his abdomen tightened as the assassin traced his lips with his tongue and he so desperately wanted to open his mouth and give in but he didn't respond, he was determined not to. Yassen pulled back studying him in the semi-darkness and Alex felt himself stretch to breaking point, the distance between them suddenly integral to his existence. Resisting the urge to slam their lips back together was like trying to swim that third length underwater, and he didn't have the strength.

"This is so wrong."

He just closed his eyes and did it. Yassen's hands were on him, in his hair and now on his shoulder pulling him closer, his were on the assassin's chest and on the armrest that was between them. He couldn't breathe. He wanted to sit in his lap and kiss him till the lights came back up it felt so good but Yassen pushed at his chest and he pulled away confused.

"I'll see you when I get back."

Alex watched him walk away lips slightly swollen, heart beating at a ridiculous pace. What the fuck had he just done?

"Shit shit shit…"

Jack sat back down beside him and whispered.

"What did I miss?"

He couldn't see the movie, he was staring blank-eyed at the screen his lips numb. "Nothing."

* * *

><p>Standing in this kitchen with this girl Alex had never been more unsure of what he was doing in his life, yet he was trying to convince himself otherwise. She's hot. She wants to, in fact she suggested it. He was trying to break the hold that Yassen had on him, form some other sort of connection.<p>

"So I hear you're away from school a lot?" she said dragging her hand down his chest. "Why's that?"

"I've been ill."

"With what?"

"A couple of things." Alex ran his hand through her blonde hair convincing himself it felt nice.

"Anything contagious?"

"No, I'm better."

Her questions were starting to annoy him and the quickest way he could think of to shut her up was to kiss her. She accepted it placidly and started unbuttoning his shirt, he picked her up and sat her on the countertop.

"You're so strong, oh my God you have a tattoo, did you do it yourself?"

He smiled a fake smile and nodded.

"You're so hot." It was an inane comment and she in general was quickly becoming a bit irritating. She didn't put her hands in the right places and made sounds a bit like something from a bad porno. With the house music thudding through the walls from the party going on in her living room and backyard and her weird touches he was finding it really difficult to get into the mood. He couldn't help but compare her hands with Yassen's, her's were too soft he liked the way his callouses slightly scratched his skin. He felt a flicker of arousal at the thought and tried to push it away.

With his shirt off and hers pulled up she guided his hand underneath her bra but he couldn't work out what it was that he was supposed to find attractive in it. Her boob was squishy and didn't feel right.

Alex had never been so relieved when someone knocked on the door.

"Alex! Tom's in a really bad way he wants you to take him home."

Alex left her on the counter and went out, not even bothering to do up his shirt as he found Tom helped him stand and walked out the house.

"Did you loose it?" Tom slurred arm around his shoulders, he'd been downing the vodka pretty hard.

"No, she's wasn't doing it for me."

"Whaderya mean?"

"She was all squishy in the wrong places."

Tom laughed, "Cool Tattoo man." Alex pulled his shirt together feeling a little sick.


	10. The garden

It was the last day of the summer holidays, Alex went back to school tomorrow. Thus he was lying face down in the garden reading a book. Jack had asked him yesterday if he minded if she spent the day with her boyfriend, he'd told her to go.

He fell into a dose face down on his book after the second chapter, the first he knew that someone was there was when their fingers trailed over his shoulder and down his spine. He was alert in a moment, trying to work out what to do when someone pressed a kiss to his shoulder and then to his neck. The kiss sent his skin into a haywire of electrics.

"I'm back."

He turned over to see Yassen lying on his side in jeans and a tee-shirt again. He sat up, keeping out of reach, thinking about the girl who he'd forgotten the name of who failed to attract him at all. All Yassen had to do was touch him and his heart was racing. He was wearing nothing but his boxers, why did he turn up when he was vulnerable like this?

"I can't do this."

"Can't do what?"

"This."

"Why?"

"You kill people, You killed Ian and..."

"And?"

"You're a guy. your thirty five!"

"Thirty six."

"I cant do this, I cant let you do this."

Yassen considered him for a moment and then sat up himself and reached out, Alex couldn't find it in him to move, all these weeks of dreams… His fingers trailed up and down the scar on his leg.

"You cant…" He said it slowly, tasting the words in his mouth and then said something in Russian, four syllables full of something unknown. "But you want to…"

Alex swallowed. "I don't."

Yassen's look was full of superiority as he held his gaze. "Sometimes you can be a very bad liar."

"I'm not lying, you're seeing what you want to."

His hand continued to run up and down his scar then it climbed higher up his thigh over his abdomen and chest to his shoulder pushing him backwards. His eyes were closed before he was horizontal and Yassen's knees were suddenly between his legs and his body hovering over him. His mouth whispered hot in his ear.

"If you're not lying then stop me."

Alex opened his mouth to say something but only a choked noise came out as the assassin kissed his neck and slowly began to make his way down his body. His collarbone his sternum his nipple… He'd never felt so powerless, he knew that if he stopped him now Yassen really would stop but he didn't want him to.

It was hard to think straight when his nipple was in his mouth and his hand was gliding up the outside of his leg and then up the inside while he pressed open mouthed kisses to his ribs. He half lifted his hips to try and get some friction, he ached for more. His tongue tasted his skin, ran over his scars and he was hard even before he got to his bottom rib. He lightly bit one hip and then licked it pressing a kiss just above the waistband of his boxers.

"Stop me Alex." the words were breathed against the material of his underwear.

He had to say it, he couldn't let him do it, he had to reach down and push him away.

Yassen pulled his Boxers from his hips and freed his erection, blowing air over it, Alex couldn't take his eyes away from him. Was he going to do it? Was he? Did he want him to?

"Tell me to stop and I'll leave."

"I…" Alex frowned, eyes tortured. God he wanted him to do it, wanted him to take him in his mouth and just… give him release. But if he let him do it then he was letting his uncle's killer do it and where did this end? Those hands that lay on his skin had killed people, dismembered and shot people. He was so much older than him… he'd be ruining himself. But if that girl was the only thing that was right then maybe he was ruined already. If Yassen left now then he'd touch himself imagining him, he'd already broken into his head, he'd already poisoned his thoughts… Besides it felt so fucking amazing how _could_ it be wrong, perhaps he should just give in and let it happen.

"Don't stop."

His world exploded. Sabina never did this, the furthest they'd got was kissing and even that had been pretty piss poor, this was a whole new feeling. It felt like his lungs were shrinking from the bottom upwards, like he'd never be able to breathe again, like his skin was on fire. His mouth was so hot and wet, his tongue so amazing. His fingers were buried in his soft hair, his hips pushed upwards against his firm hands trying to get more and then, shit, he just took him all the way in and swallowed. Some really decidedly dirty things were coming out of his mouth as he lay there in his back garden, he didn't have any control as he arched into every suck and Jesus Christ he was close. Everything was a blur of colour and sound as he neared completion, his voice a blend of incoherent words that tried to express the euphoria as his body tightened and sang its release.

Silence.

He pulled up his boxers and sat up leaning back on his hands, Yassen knelt between his legs face impassive waiting for Alex to say something.

He didn't. Instead he pulled his legs underneath him, pushed Yassen backwards and settled his head on his chest staring at the sky.

"What would MI6 do to me if they found out?"

"Try and use you against me."

"How?"

"Set a trap…"

"Using me as bait?"

Yassen went silent, Alex looked up at him turning his head.

"So I'm in danger from my own employers as well as yours?"

"Yes."

"I suppose they'll just have to get in line." Alex said and closed his eyes, drifting off in a haze of post orgasmic bliss.


	11. Shade

When he woke up he was being lifted and carried. He opened his eyes blearily looking up at Yassen.

"You were getting sunburnt."

He put him down in the shade of a tree and dragged the rug over, Alex rolled onto it and watched as he lay down on his back. Crawling over he hesitated for a moment before swinging his leg over him and planting an elbow either side of his head. Yassen stared up at him, calmly glancing down at where Alex straddled him briefly and then back to his face. Swallowing Alex leant down and kissed him.

It was slow and unhurried, his fingers resting softly on the outside of his thighs just above his knees and his mouth only returning what he gave. Alex felt in control, felt relaxed – or at least not panicked. He broke the kiss with a soft wet sound and let go of a breath he'd unconsciously been holding in a rush as he analysed that roiling feeling deep inside him. He sat up.

"I'm fucked up."

"Yes." Well he hadn't been expecting him to agree. "But not in the way you think."

He put his hands over Yassen's on his legs. "How am I fucked up then?"

"You have nightmares about people trying to kill you, you sometimes flinch when Jack touches you. You shouldn't have learned to fear so much so early. Then there are the scars."

He sat up and pulled his right hand from underneath Alex's trailing his fingernails over his ribs to a fine white line. "Knife wounds," He ran his fingers up and over his neck leaning him backwards, Alex followed his touch arching his back and closing his eyes. He gasped as his lips touched his skin over the scar.

"Burns." Bubbled skin like stretched cloth on the inside of his arm he licked it and blew on it cooling the scar before taking it in his mouth, his tongue hot. "and bullet wounds." His lips over his heart, over the tattoo while his fingers traced up his spine, Alex breathed into his hair. Yassen looked up, forehead to forehead blue eyes meeting and merging with brown. "I'm not the problem Alex."

Perhaps he would never have got into this is if Yassen hadn't killed Ian, maybe he would have. It was stupid to think that it was that clear cut.

"Yeah, I know." He rolled off him and drew up his legs, wrapping his arms around them and facing away.

Yassen left him for a minute and then moved towards him kissing his shoulder and then his neck and winding his arms around his shoulders. Alex moved backwards into the embrace and rested his head against his chest.

"I have to go."

"I know that too."

* * *

><p>They'd told him to come in for a debriefing, so he was at the Royal and General Bank again. Getting in the lift and walking down the corridor to Mrs. Jones's office.<p>

"Alex, do have a seat."

"Okay."

He sat down and she got a file out of one of her drawers, it was huge spilling over with pieces of paper and when she opened it his face jumped out at him from that first day when he'd got in the photo booth. He looked young.

"Is that my file?"

"Yes." She pulled another file, a smaller one from the large messy one and opened it taking several films out and putting them in front of him. It was his leg.

"I had forensics go over the x-rays from your leg, they have written me a report."

"And?"

"They believe that it was caused by a ricochet."

"You mean I got shot?"

"Effectively."

Alex swallowed widening his eyes and rubbing his leg.

"Any idea of the calibre?"

"No. Though they estimate a small rifle or a hand gun, the damage could not have been done by a larger gun."

"And have you made any progress on who?"

"No."

Alex just stared at her. "What?"

She folded her hands. "We've tried Alex but whoever it was their connections got you into the country completely undetected."

"How?"

"We don't know."

"Could it be some friend of my father's? Someone like Yassen who owed him something."

"It could be Alex but when your father was in deep cover he did not report everything, which makes our records incomplete." She pulled a fresh piece of paper towards her. "Have you met such an individual?"

"No." He looked down. "It's just the only thing that makes any sense."

"I agree."

"What happens if they want something in return for all this?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, but they've proved that they're capable of getting me in and out of the country. What if they aren't so nice next time?"

"We will look after you Alex." She put aside the piece of paper and gathered his file together. He eyed it wondering what exactly it said about him amidst all those loose letters and words. "We will let you know as soon as we have more information."


	12. Knightsbridge

"For fucks sake." He huffed under his breath, halfway through History.

"Alex you alright?" Tom asked.

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay." He'd just got a hard-on for what felt like the fifth time today and had to cross his legs painfully under the table. He hadn't seen Yassen for a week and a half since he'd… well that was what kept getting him hard… By the time the bell went he'd successfully managed to distract himself so didn't have to sport an erection as he walked out of school and got on his bike.

When he got home from school he found a note from Jack saying that she'd gone out to meet her boyfriend for a coffee. His immediate thought was that with the house empty he could go and spend some time… No! He went and looked in the fridge focusing on snack. When he shut it Yassen was there like something from a horror movie.

"Shit." He jumped backwards into a fighting stance before he could think. "Don't do that."

Yassen just grinned which had his blood heading downwards and pressed him into the fridge kissing him. Alex put his hands on his chest feeling his stomach do a little flip and gasped when he began kissing his jaw and then took his earlobe in his mouth giving it a little tug with his teeth.

"Come with me."

"What?"

"Come with me back to my place."

"I can't, Jack will get worried."

He reached down and squeezed him through the front of his school trousers. "Just tell her you're going to a friend's place, I'll have you back by nine."

He slipped his hand into the front of his trousers over his underwear and Alex moaned his eyes slipping closed. "Okay."

"Change, I'll meet you outside."

He gave him a final squeeze and then left him slumped against the fridge. Alex just breathed for a moment and then started walking upstairs willing his erection to go back down but knowing that the promise of some kind of release was going to keep him painfully hard. He dumped his school uniform on the floor and pulled on a cotton shirt and jeans. Then he thumped back down stairs checking that his phone was in his pocket and as an afterthought slipped his MI6 watch from his wrist leaving it on the counter.

Going outside he got in the passenger side of Yassen's car – an anonymous Fiat - telling Jack he was going to Tom's and asking Tom if he would cover for him because he was meeting up with a girl. He sent: _hope you have better luck this time._

"Who was last time?" Yassen asked.

Alex bit his lip determined to read the assassins next text over his shoulder. "Two weeks ago I tried to get with this girl…"

Yassen smirked. "Did it not go well?"

"No need to look so fucking pleased with yourself."

They stopped at traffic lights and Yassen put the hand brake on before leaning over and kissing him roughly, Alex leant into it hoping that perhaps this was leading where he thought it was: some kind of release. He could feel his hand wander down his chest and feeling brave and a little impatient reached over and put a hand over the slight bulge in the Russian's jeans. He gasped breaking the kiss and Alex pushed at his shoulder taking his hand back with a smirk.

"Lights."

He continued to look at him even as he put the car in gear, reluctantly breaking eye contact as the car in front of them moved.

"How far are we?"

"Ten minutes."

When they got there Yassen put the car into a parking spot on a residential street almost violently, pulling up the handbrake with a jerk. Then he got out and was around his side of the car before he'd had a chance to get a leg out. He pulled him the rest of the way out by his arm and resumed the kiss they'd started at the traffic lights. Alex moaned as he squeezed his bum and pushed him backwards into a door that a moment later opened behind him.

"Yassen, the door." He indicated the car and the open passenger door. He kicked it closed without letting him go and pressed something in his pocket that made it bleep. Alex laughed breathlessly and yelped as his legs were hoisted up around Yassen's waist, clinging to his shoulders. He slammed the front door dropping the keys who knows where before crushing him closer with another kiss as he walked through a hallway and into another room off to the right.

Suddenly he was horizontal, Yassen on top of him resting between his legs. He felt his shirt being unbuttoned and then palms glide over his skin. He wanted more, more skin against his own Alex reached for the other man's tee-shirt and pulled it up with both hands, he broke the kiss looking down into his eyes as he sat up and pulled it over his head.

He was muscled like Alex had never been, arms thick with it and his chest lean and hard, he lay back down on top of him and it felt even better than he'd imagined. Yassen was unbuttoning his jeans and he reached for his belt undoing it and then the top button of his combats slipping a hand inside and touching him through his underwear.

Yassen's eyes rolled upwards slightly and he paused in the act of pulling off Alex's trousers as he touched him; he felt big and very hard as he traced the length of him and felt his balls.

"Good?" he murmured.

It seemed to wake him up, he pulled Alex upright and then to his feet letting his trousers drop and then his underwear. While toeing off his shoes Alex pushed his jeans down and then stared at Yassen's remaining underwear before pulling it down.

The skin of his cock was flushed and the head even darker based in coarse blonde hairs, he was even bigger when compared to Alex who reached out and slowly ran a finger along the top from base to tip.

"What?"

"You're pretty big."

"I'm not small in ge-general." His voice hitched as Alex wrapped his fingers around him and pushed away from himself. Yassen responded by pushing him gently back onto the bed, hovering over him, and taking him in hand stroking him slowly. Alex let go of his cock putting his hand on his arm instead, squeezing and almost biting through his lip. He felt Yassen lean back and sit on his heels lifting his legs and letting them rest on his own, when he opened his eyes to glance down at him he ran his thumb over the head of his dick and he lost coherent thought again. The assassin put two fingers in his mouth and then something warm and wet touched his balls and slipped behind them and continued further back. It didn't register with his brain what he was doing till he circled his entrance with one saliva wetted finger He grabbed his hand more out of instinct than anything. Yassen stopped, finger still against him, but then withdrew it and leant down instead taking him in his mouth.

Alex keened feeling him suck just the head for a moment and then licking down the underside.

"Oh god."

He'd just taken his balls in his mouth laving them with his tongue before going back up again and taking him in fully. Alex dug his fingernails into his shoulder blades head snapping back and a moan coming out of his mouth as he did it again.

Flushes of heat ran in waves down the length of his body as Yassen slowly drew him closer and closer to release, then his lungs shrunk and his chest tightened, his balls drew up and he couldn't breathe as he toppled on the edge of a climax. He lowered his head a final time filling his mouth and then his throat with him. Alex let out a cry, his hand buried in Yassen's hair keeping him there with his bottom lip against his balls and closed his eyes as he came feeling him swallow and then push off him with the most lewd wet sucking sound.

Slowly he registered that Yassen was lying down beside him on his side, he turned and found he was watching him recover. Glancing down he saw that he was still hard. Alex turned onto his side, arm beneath his head, and reached down taking him in his hand a little bit nervous.

"Just like you would yourself." He murmured putting his left hand on his hip and kissing him quickly and then looking straight in his eyes as Alex started slowly to stroke him.

He felt every movement of his hand through Yassen's eyes, he didn't close them once and the intensity of the blue as he breathed small moans against his lips made him feel like he was drowning. His hand on his hip tightened almost imperceptibly telling him where to put pressure where not to, what felt brilliant and what would push him over the brink if he did it too often. He drew it out, his fingers slowly pulling the assassin right to the point where he'd come only to leave off and draw him back again. The first time he did it he looked surprised, when he did it the second time he just stared at him the third time… Just his name.

"_Alex_."

Suddenly he wanted to see him loose control, he his hand fast and hard and Yassen thrust against him as he finished, spraying come onto his abdomen and squeezing his hip so hard he was sure he'd have bruises.

He panted for a moment eyelids drooping and then kissed him.

"You are almost too good at that." Yassen gasped and then flopped onto his back, slipping his hand underneath Alex and pulling him against him. He rested his head on his shoulder feeling his fingers trace the muscles in his lower back.

"Good."


	13. Knightsbridge Contin

For a while they just lay there, breathing returning to normal. There was the hum of london traffic outside but other than that, nothing. Silence.

"MI6 called me in the other day."

"What for?"

"They got forensics to go over my x-rays, they know it was a bullet."

"What else?"

"Nothing, or they're not telling me everything." Alex sighed. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"As long as they believe you…"

Alex ran his fingers up Yassen's chest between his pecs. "What if I'd told them?"

"That I am not dead?"

"Yes."

Yassen considered it for a moment. "It would not have been so bad, Scorpia know now and it was them who I was hiding from in the beginning."

"It's driving them mad." Alex grinned. "Not knowing."

The assassin laughed. "You like that…" he smiled at the ceiling.

"I feels nice being in control of the information for once."

"Hmm… Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

He reached down and smeared the come on his stomach with his thumb. "A shower?"

Alex nodded but still didn't move for a good long minute before finally sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. There was another door in the room apart from the one they'd come in through which led to a bathroom with a large shower. He looked back to Yassen who was still lying on the bed completely naked looking up at the ceiling.

"Are you err- coming?"

He lifted his head and looked at him, eyes travelling up and down his body, then he smiled and got out of bed lifting his arms and stretching his muscled body. Alex watched him leaning against the doorframe and then disappeared into the bathroom when he dropped his arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

It felt a bit weird to be naked with him, and to have him naked so close to him, it was stupid really because he'd seen him and touched the entirety of him but when he was standing there with his hand in the stream of water coming out the shower head and Yassen stood leaning against the wall studying him he blushed and felt the urge to cover himself. Instead he got in the shower and faced the wall tensing when Yassen wrapped his arms around him from behind.

"Relax Alex, close your eyes."

He did feeling his hand wash the semen from his skin and then he jerked as his fingers dug into his ribs laughing and yelping as he tickled him. Head thrown back he grabbed his hands and flattened them against his skin.

"Stop, stop!"

Yassen laughed in his ear taking a bottle of shampoo from next to the shower head and squeezing some onto the top of Alex's head. He turned around feeling his hand then rub it into his hair and took some of the foam and did the same to him gasping as his hand slid down and washed the rest of him too, fondling his balls and shaft but not slipping behind them. It was enough to get him hard again.

"Teenagers…" Yassen muttered with a smile and kissed him pressing their bodies together and edging him backwards into the stream of water Alex closed his eyes as shampoo washed over his face and moaned into the kiss as his hand began pumping him. He clung to his broad shoulders and buried his hand in his hair face pressed to his neck.

He ended up head resting on his shoulder almost hanging off him as his heavy limbs gave up on him. Yassen guided him out of the shower and towelled him dry rubbing it over his hair and down his back.

"What have you got to eat?" Alex asked him sleepily as he pulled his underwear back on and his Jeans. He pulled his shirt over his shoulders but didn't bother with the buttons.

"We could order something…"

"Chinese?"

"Alright." He led him through the hallway into the living area, an open room with sofas and a TV in one area and the kitchen in the other with a dining table and chairs in between. Yassen threw him the house phone and Alex took out his own using a number he'd saved on it.

"Hello wan ton noodle, how may I help you?"

He leant on the back of the couch. "Hi, can I order numbers 28, 29 40 and 51."

"Would you like fried rice or steamed."

He turned to Yassen covering the phone. "Fried rice or steamed."

"Steamed."

He relayed it to the man.

"Would you like it delivered or would you like to pick it up."

"Delivered we're at…"

Yassen slid a piece of paper in front of him with the address on it and he said it aloud.

"And your name sir?"

"err, A- Andre."

"Andre?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Your order will be with you shortly."

"Thanks, I mean shai shai."

The man spluttered over the phone and then laughed. "Shai shai."

Yassen raised an eyebrow. "Andre?"

"Just in case." He shrugged. "You know how it is. Is this place yours?"

"No, the occupants are on holiday."

"So you just take over their house?"

"I will leave it exactly as I found it."

"Do you own anywhere?"

"I own a flat in Lyon and another one in Firenze."

"Really? Firenze?"

"Yes."

Alex smiled. "Under your own name?"

"No, one of them was your fathers and is still registered under his name though he gave to me."

"Which one was that?"

"The one in Lyon. I rent it out mostly."

"Where is it?"

"On the bank of the Rhone."

"Do MI6 know about it?" Alex sat down on the sofa with his back to the arm and Yassen joined him facing him, their legs met and tangled in the middle.

"No he bought it with money he made from Scorpia and registered it as a different John Rider he gave me the documents before he… left and I had my photo fitted to them."

Alex wanted to ask, so desperately wanted to ask the question that he'd been aching to ask for so long. Why, if my father betrayed you, do you not hate him? Do you still want me? Yet he didn't.

"Have you memorised the Chinese take away menu?" he asked.

Alex laughed. "Jack doesn't like to cook, we eat quite a lot of take away."

"So what did you order?"

"Sweet and sour, black bean, lemon and ginger and… prawn thingys."

He shook his head.

The room brightened as the evening sun came out and Alex looked out the window seeing London flooded in a deep orange. He felt Yassen move and found himself looking up at him as he shifted to the same position he'd been in when he'd levelled the empty gun at him. He was pressed against him hip to sternum and he couldn't tear his eyes away as he ran his fingers over his face his expression one of concentration. From his eyebrow around the socket of his eye following the bone structure over his cheekbone tracing his jaw and then running over his lips, the finger stopped in the middle of them and feeling suddenly a little bit daring he parted them slightly and ran the tip of his tongue over the pad of his finger.

Yassen blinked and said something in Russian taking his finger away and looking down at him eyes narrowed as if contemplating something difficult.

"What did you say?" Alex asked.

"There is no direct translation, the closest would be you're beautiful but in a more... manly way."

"Handsome?"

"Less medieval."

"Hot."

"Less crass."

"Gorgeous."

"Less over the top."

"Sumptuous?"

"Less gay."

Alex snickered. "Iridescent."

"No, too complicated."

"Lustrous?"

Yassen cocked his head to the side and leant in breathing the word against his lips. "Lustrous… It does contain one of the seven deadly sins, and there is something undeniably sinful about you…"

"In what way?"

"In every way." Yassen shifted slightly and Alex could feel he was growing hard against him. "Your like the perfect apple that should be filled with purity and light yet when bitten into also has these undertones of darkness that just enhance the flavour." He lightly nipped Alex's bottom lip between his teeth. "Making it all the more irresistible."

He was getting hard again too, for what? The third time that hour?

"So you'd like to eat me?"

"Eat is not the right word."

"Devour."

"Perfect."

"You want to devour me?"

"All of you, like a display of Lust, Gluttony and Greed, Jealousy and Envy and afterwards I'd lounge around avarice and sloth."

"I really bring out the worst in you don't I?"

He chuckled. "Indeed."

"What's Avarice?"

"It's boasting of the worst kind."

"What's the worst kind?"

"When they're right to boast."

Then he finally kissed him, his fingers in his hair. It was so slow and so deep, it felt like a cliché kiss from that vampire book he'd studied in English last year and hated. He wrapped and arm around his chest and pressed them together tighter cupping the back of his head in the other and curing his fingers in his fair hair. Who else could kiss like this? Who else could make him forget everything but this moment when they were moulded to each other and moving in one slow roiling mass?

There was a knock at the door and the spell was broken, Yassen pulled back his tongue and then broke contact altogether pushing himself off the armrest and from his body. Alex ached to have him back there pressed against him.

"How much is it going to come to?"

"£23.50."

Yassen went to the door and came back with plastic bags full of Chinese, reluctantly Alex got up and joined him at the table though with the smell of the food he suddenly felt gnawing hunger return.

The assassin, sat the other side of the table seemed unaffected by the kiss now like he could just switch that kind of emotion on and off. He was opening the plastic containers of Chinese and placing them between them before getting up and fetching two bowls.

What followed was an ordinary conversation like he would have had with Jack about school and friends, he absorbed it with the same neutral expression as always occasionally expressing slight amusement in his blue eyes at some of the banalities of school life. His phone started vibrating in his pocket a second before the ringtone blared out. He winced when he looked at the screen: Jack

"Hello?"

"They were just here for you Alex, MI6."

"What?" he got to his feet feeling panicked.

"I told them you're at Toms but… you're not are you?"

"No, no I'm not." He swallowed looking at Yassen. "How did you know?"

"You left your watch on the kitchen counter."

"Ah."

"What do you want to do?"

He stood staring into his eyes across the table for a moment indecision plaguing him. No one knew where he was, no one could betray him to this location he could evade MI6 this one time for just a little while…

"I'll be back later."

"Okay… Be careful Alex."

"You too Jack, don't let them push you around alright…"

"I won't, I've got a samuri on the wall in here you know."

"You keep reminding me…"

She laughed but still sounded tense. "I'll see you whenever, at the latest tommorow."

"Okay, love you Jack."

"You too Alex." She sounded just a little sad as she said it and then hung up.

Alex ripped the back off his phone and pulled the battery out dropping the pieces onto the table.

"They're looking for me."

"Where did you say you'd be?"

"A friend's and _he_ thinks I'm with a girl but he doesn't know who."

"Where are you going to say you were?"

"With a girl, with my phone off."

Alex picked up the empty Chinese boxes and put them back into the bag taking his and Yassen's bowl to the sink and washing them up. When he turned around Yassen was leaning against the counter watching him.

"Do you want me to drop you home?"

He shook his head. "Not really, I'd like to make them wait." Crossing the kitchen he damned whoever made him that Yassen was so much taller than him. "Can I stay the night?"

"I could be persuaded."

Alex got the idea that he didn't mean talking. He took his hand and pulled him out of the kitchen and into the living room. "Allow me to persuade you."

He pushed him onto the couch and straddled him pulling his tee-shirt up and - when he lifted his arms - over his head. Yassen's hands went straight back to his thighs and his to his shoulders, what the hell did he do now? Staring at his chest he ran a finger over his collarbone and then up his neck over the scar made by his father's shot. Placing a quick kiss over his lips he kissed the side of his neck running his tongue over the scar that felt smooth as opposed to the skin around it. His hands tightened on his thighs and when Alex looked up at him his eyes were shut, but then he opened them and ran one hand backwards squeezing his bum.

Taking this as encouragement he looked again at his chest and ran a thumb over his right nipple before leaning down and taking it in his mouth.

"Alex…" he breathed his name from above him and he smiled, his nipple felt hard and swollen beneath his tongue and when he touched it with his teeth Yassen dug his nails into his leg through his jeans. With a final lick he moved further down placing kisses over his ribs and licking a scar than ran down his side as he slid onto his knees.

Alex stared at the bulge in his combat trousers and slowly undid his belt and the button and fly. He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as his erection sprung free revealing he hadn't put on any underwear. Yassen just lifted his hips and pushed his trousers down.

Faced finally with the reality that he was about to put that huge thing in his mouth Alex swallowed.

"How do I err…" he blushed.

Yassen guided his hand up from his thigh to his cock and then put his hands on his shoulders quickly pushing his hair out of his eyes. "The end's the most sensitive."

"So I lick it?"

Yassen looked amused and just a little bit desperate as he nodded and watched him intently as he leant forward and licked the tip exhaling in a rush.

"Like that? Or like this?" He placed his lips over the same spot and sucked watching Yassen's eyes close and his chest expand.

"Either Alex." His fingers tightened in his hair. "Just do _something._"

He took a leaf from Yassen's book and tilted his head licking in a slow swipe from the base of his cock to the tip and worrying the spot that made him bite his lip and shift his hips against him.

"More advice?" he asked making sure to breathe against the head.

He opened his eyes looking down at him and taking his head in his hands. "In your mouth."

"What in my mouth?"

He panted rolling his eyes. "You're teasing me."

Alex laughed and opened his mouth taking the head and a little bit more till he felt like he was going to choke. Then he pulled back and licked the tip before doing it again. Yassens fingers wound their way into his hair putting a slight pressure on the back of his head every time he went down and curling tight when he sucked hard.

He remembered that Yassen had taken him all the way in and looked up at him finding that his eyes were open and fixed on him. His mouth was slightly open and when their eyes met and Alex took him in as far as he could manage he let out a quiet moan shifting his hips forward. He closed his eyes and concentrated trying to push his dick a little further down his throat but it touched his tonsils and he was pulling away before he knew it coughing to the side.

"Sorry."

"That was me, I tried to do that thing… when you swallow."

"You don't have to Alex."

"I just thought I'd try it, you make it look easy…" he coughed again. "How do I do it?"

"Take it in as far as you can."

Alex opened his mouth and guided his cock back inside looking up at him and seeing him take in a huge breath and let it back out his eyes closed before meeting his gaze. "Now swallow and try and take more."

He pushed his head forward a little more and swallowed feeling his throat constrict and pull Yassen further in, he said something in Russian and Alex lost concentration pulling back too fast and ending up coughing again.

"Enough for today." Yassen reached down and pulled him into his lap while he coughed, his eyes a little watery. "Okay?"

"I'm fine." He coughed again and then wiped his eyes looking at Yassen. "So is that enough? Can I stay the night?"

He smiled and leant forwards kissing him. "You can stay the night."

Grinning Alex looked down at where his cock met his jeans. "So what now?"

"Take these off." He pulled at his trousers and Alex stood undoing the button and then pulling down the fly before letting them drop, heavy, to the floor letting his boxers join them a moment later.

It was as if he'd never seen him naked before, he moved forward to the edge of his seat and ran his hands up his thighs from his knee to his hip and then back down again. Taking his right leg he pulled it up so he would put his foot on the sofa next to him then kissed the inside of his knee and then his thigh his thumb rubbing at the scar from Egypt.

The skin was so sensitive as he touched his lips to it, he seemed to be controlling his breathing. With every slow, torturous lick he breathed in and when he released him he breathed out. He looked up at him after he'd worked his way up and then sat back welcoming him onto his lap.

Alex swallowed as he settled himself straddling Yassen's legs, he could feel his skin against him on the inside of his thighs and his bum and then to top it all off they brushed _there_ and that was almost too much in itself.

"And now?"

"It's up to you Alex, what do you want to do?"

He got the sense that he was teasing him perhaps in revenge but it was impossible to tell. Alex wanted something, but he didn't know what.. something more.

"I want you to…" he blushed at the thoughts going through his head leaning forwards and speaking against Yassen's lips. "What was it that you wanted to do with your fingers?"

Fucking hell did that sound dirty coming out of his mouth, he blushed almost immediately looking down so that he didn't have to see Yassen's face.

"First why was it you stopped me?"

He looked down even more chin almost to his chest. "Cause when the guy from MI6 did it it hurt."

Yassen's finger lifted his chin and his lips were suddenly over his, he opened his mouth and wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

"It wont hurt…"

"Alright."

Sitting straddling his legs Alex watched as Yassen took his own fingers in his mouth, his index and ring finger. With their lips so close he could see that he was running his tongue over them. Intrigued he planted a hand on his shoulder to steady himself and took his wrist. Yassen let him pull his fingers from his mouth and watched, eyes intensely concentrated, as Alex took first the index finger and then both fingers between his lips.

He could feel the whirl of his fingerprints against his tongue and the callouses on the joints as he went over each finger in turn. Yassen shifted his hips against him and Alex's eyes slid closed as he moaned. Then his fingers were gone and he was kissing him hard, harder than he had so far.

"Sometimes-" his voice was husky, almost hoarse. "Sometimes I think you're oblivious."

"To what?"

He laughed and whispered. "When you do things like that, with my fingers in your mouth… makes me want to... _do _things to you."

"Like what?"

Instead of an answer he felt Yassen's wet fingers touch the back of his balls and he pulled in air through his teeth as they slipped backwards and started circling his entrance with just a little pressure.

"Relax."

Alex almost bit through his lip as a single finger slid inside him and dug his fingernails into Yassen's shoulder. It didn't hurt but he couldn't help but clench himself around it as it slid all the way in.

"Open your eyes Alex, look at me." Then as an afterthought. "God you're tight."

He opened his eyes and Yassen cupped the side of his face pressing their foreheads together. "Keep your eyes open Alex."

Then he curled his finger.

"Uh," Alex's hands were jumping and sliding over his shoulders and in his hair, trying to find something solid to squeeze because he'd lost focus on anything but that finger inside him that felt like heaven. "_Yassen?"_

Yassen grinned and began to move his finger in and out of him curling it so he touched that spot inside him that made him burn. Small cries were coming out of his mouth every time he did it.

"More, please more."

The second finger pushed slowly inside him, stretching the muscles around his entrance, and he moaned eyes lidded lifting his hips and then rolling them down again. Yassen's hand slipped from his face to his hip moving his fingers in and out to his movements.

Alex reached down intending to touch himself but then took the assassin's cock in his hand instead seeing his blue eyes slip closed for just a moment as he pushed himself down onto his fingers and began to pump him in time. He could almost imagine his dick was inside him as the pace increased, that he was riding him stretched around his hard length with the head rubbing at whatever that was inside him as he moved.

"Oh God Yassen..."

The russian was thrusting into his hand and pushing his fingers deeper and his other hand had wrapped around his penis stroking him roughly. Alex let out cries of ecstasy that got ever closer together as the two of them got closer to release. Yassen kissed him sloppily his fingers curling a final time as Alex came. A final few last strokes had the assassin doing the same and the two of them collapsed in a sated sweaty mess on the couch.

"What was that?" Alex asked, voice weak, his head resting on his shoulder.

"Your prostate." Yassen murmured back.

"I think I may be gay."

He chuckled softly and kissed his neck, Alex lifted his head and kissed him. "I need another shower."

The assassin looked down between them at their semen that coated both his and Alex's stomach, then he scooped up Alex's on two fingers from his six-pack and mixed it with his own on the younger's skin.

"That's so weird."

"Is it?"

"You're playing with my cum."

"With both of ours actually."

Alex just stared at him for a moment before taking some of the clear liquid on his own finger and smeared it over the scar from Damian Cray's bullet.

"Now who's weird?"

"Shh." Alex picked up some more on the end of his finger and wrote his name on his chest, Yassen raised his eyebrows at him and did the same making sure to wet his nipples as he was doing it. Then:

"This is too strange for words." Alex stood the odd feeling of having been fingered still lingering around his entrance. "Come have a shower."


	14. Brookland High School

"Alex!"

Tom jumped him as he entered the school gates.

"Alex man you didn't say I'd have to cover for you from fucking _them_. I tried to call you five times."

Oops, his phone was still off and at home.

"Sorry, I didn't know they'd be after me that day did they give you a hard time?"

"No, but then I told them straight away that you were with a girl cause… I didn't want them to get out the electric chair or anything."

"That's fine, I rang them when I got home."

"What did they want." They turned towards the school building as the bell went.

"They wanted me for a mission but they found someone else because I was too late."

"Good, I thought I wasn't going to see you for a while when they turned up. So dish the dirt then."

"What?"

"Dish the dirt on the girl? Come on who is she? Did you loose it?"

"Not yet, I'm working on it."

"So how far did you get?"

"Look Tom…"

"Come on… did she give you a blow job?"

Alex blushed.

"She did? Ah ha ha I knew it!"

"Will you calm down?"

Tom was almost jumping up and down. "So who is she? Anyone I know?"

"No."

"Is she a spy like you?"

Alex looked around alarmed. "Keep your voice down."

He whispered now conspiratorially. "Is she a spy?"

"No."

"Did you meet her on one of your missions?"

Alex thought about the first time he'd seen Yassen at the top of those stairs at Sayle's factory. He'd looked to him at the time like he'd had a blank face on but he wondered if he knew who he was from the very start.

"Is that a yes?" Tom ventured.

"If I told you I'd have to kill you."

"I knew it was a yes!"

"Shh, for God's sake Tom!"

Even though his friend was being an idiot Alex couldn't help but smile at the thought of Yassen, he knew he was being a girl but he'd liked sleeping in his arms. Not to mention all the things that came with that…

When they went to the biology lab there was a note on the door telling them to come to another room, when he peered through the window he saw there were two painters inside covering the smoke stains from the bunsen burners on the ceiling with white paint.

"We're going to be late."

The biology teacher waved them in the shut the door behind them without breaking sentence. The only two seats left were at the front of the room off to the right he and Tom both went for the window seat hissing at each other under their breath.

"I got there first."

Alex conceded after the teacher took his bag and put it on the other table still not pausing for breath. It wasn't a good start to the lesson and he found it increasingly heavy going as it continued in the same vain. Learning how to analyse graphs showing the oxygen diffusion into haemoglobin was less than enjoyable.

The lesson continued around him and he shifted in his seat, they were in a room designed for one of the younger years, as such they were in stupid small plastic seats that were uncomfortable in the extreme.

"Mr Rider." His attention snapped to the front. "Looking out the window will not help you pass your GCSE biology exam."

Why the fuck did he take biology?

"Sir." He stared at the front with the same ragged concentration wincing when his phone went off and the teacher turned around, he fumbled with it and pressed the hang up button quieting it's tone and he just shook his head. Alex looked at his phone and saw an unknown number. They rang again, the phone vibrating in his hand, he stuck it in his pocket . If it was MI6 then they could wait, anyone else they could also wait.

He tried to concentrate but the graphs were confusing; something about partial pressure and haemoglobin loading. Then the room shook and there was a roar in his ears, almost deafening, lasting only a second.

The screams were the first thing he heard as his hearing faded back in, then he got up and walked out of the room. He headed in the opposite direction to everyone else, already knowing instinctively which room it would be. As he arrived at the Biology labs, a separate building like the chemistry labs he saw it was a burning wreck, the explosion had been on the top floor but had taken the whole building down with it. Anyone who was in there was dead, two painters and probably a classroom full of kids on the bottom floor. He took out his phone and called the unknown number.

"Alex?"

"I'm alive."

"Come to the front gate."

He hung up.


	15. Royal and General

Two agents were waiting at the front gate with a car, everyone else was walking into the main hall where they were doing a register. The whole of the quad lay between him and the rest of the students, they were absorbed in their conversations and no one noticed him standing on his own. He'd never felt so separated from his classmates.

"Alex!"

Tom was waving at him from the other side of the quad running over to him.

"Alex where did you go we've got to register." He gestured to the people filing into the hall.

"I've got to go."

"What do you mean?"

"It was a bomb Tom. In our biology lab where we were supposed to be."

"Oh. Shit."

One of the agents was calling to him, Tom looked at the man in the suit piecing the details together in his head.

"I'll call you later, don't say anything to anyone."

"I wont. Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"When you say, in our classroom where we were supposed to be…" Tom paused. "Was it meant for you?"

"I…" he thought about lying. "I think so."

He was silent.

"I'll call you later."

"Okay man, don't… die or anything." The worry was in the inflection, in the way he hesitated his eyes wider than usual.

"I'll try."

The agents were silent in the car, that particular brand of silence told Alex they were professional to the last. They were the type of men that were hired because they followed orders and didn't express their opinions, or didn't have the nerve to have any opinions. They parked in an underground car park and walked him all the way up to Blunt's office.

"Alex, please sit."

Both Blunt and Jones were in the room, Blunt sat Jones stood and he perched on the chair provided.

"How many people died?"

"Two, the painters in the lab."

Alex sighed, no children. Thank god.

"Who was it?" he asked.

For a moment Blunt looked as if he might dismiss his question but then he pushed a few photos over the desk. Grey, grainy CCTV images of a man in overalls and a hat, beard fully grown with a bit of white.

"Klaus Werber, was German special forces. Retired."

"Who does he work for?"

"We don't have any further intelligence at this time, he has no links with criminal organisations that we know of." Jones said looking out over grey London.

He should have known from then that they knew nothing, but they still kept him there for another half an hour. Telling him all about his new security detail, how it was to be run by two men one who worked the day and one who worked the night.

"They are going to impose security measures at your school on our advice, metal detectors and barbed wire around all of the fences. Until we know more an agent or one of the two SAS soldiers will pick you up from school and take you to it."

There was a knock on the door and Mrs. Jones opened it admitting the two men.

"Alex I believe you know Wolf and Eagle."

During the car ride back they sat their side of Alex, the back of the car was cramped with their combined muscle so he leant forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

"So what did you do this time to land yourself in trouble?"

"I don't know." He replied. "How'd you get put on this assignment?"

"We were supposed to be on leave, they pulled us in because we know you."

"Sorry."

"It's cool kid." Wolf patted him on the back. "They're paying us battlefield wages."

"There's probably a reason for that." Alex said darkly.

* * *

><p>"Alex what happened?" Jack pounced on him as soon as he got home. He let the other two men in behind him and her eyes widened.<p>

"A bomb went off at school, it was meant for me." He gestured and the two men. "This is Wolf and Eagle, I trained with them at the Breacon Beacons, they're running house security."

Wolf spoke first. "If you wouldn't mind could we sit down and discuss the arrangements Miss Starbright."

She nodded and then led them into the living room. "Could you get me a glass of water Alex?"

"Okay."

He walked into the kitchen and froze, Yassen was leaning nonchalant against the counter.

"_What are you doing here_?" he hissed "_There are two soldiers in there_."

"Shh." He pushed away from the counter and approached him speaking quietly. "What's the assassin's name?"

"Yassen there are agents out the front too."

"I will go out the back."

The statement seemed funny somewhere in the back of his mind but he didn't laugh, just stared up at Yassen sighing. "Klaus Werber."

"Organisation?"

"Unknown."

"How many people died?"

"Just the two." Then he shook his head. "What am I saying? Just the two…"

Here in this kitchen with Yassen Gregorovich, with two SAS soldiers talking to Jack about his personal security… two lives were enough, surely?

"Alex look at me."

He met his gaze, looking into his blue eyes waiting for him to say something. Yassen didn't, instead he leant down and kissed him.

"I will find his employer and then I will end him."

Alex nodded and pulled him down for another kiss.


	16. Duke of York's Barracks

He couldn't go out without a body guard and then only when it was strictly necessary. Which by Wolf and Eagle's judgment meant never. He couldn't go to Tom's house he couldn't do anything! And it was driving him fucking insane. It's for your own protection blar blar blar, where were all these agents in Libya?

"I want to go for a run." He told Wolf.

The dark skinned man picked up his keys. "I'll take you to my gym."

"Fine."

He drove him to the barracks where he lived. The gym was full of SAS guys, lifting weights like they were nothing, Dipping on bars with what looked like the weight of a bus attached to their waist. He was sure if he were to jump on the back of one of them they'd just keep going.

Alex felt like they were staring at him as he got on a treadmill and plugged in his headphones, he picked the 4music channel and pushed the button that made it start. The songs ran in groups of four counting down to number one continually from ten. During the ad breaks he could barely keep going his lungs were burning and his leg ached. He stopped the machine pulling out the headphones and sat on the end of the machine catching his breath.

"You were fitter than this on training Cub."

Wolf stood in front of him in slacks.

"I broke my leg, it's the first training I've got in since I finished physio."

"How'd you break your leg?"

"I…" he could feel other people listening. "I can't talk about it."

Wolf frowned and then shrugged. "Come do some weights, you need it."

"Dickhead."

He followed him over to the weight section and sat down on the bench press

"Start heavy and work down doing more reps."

"Okay."

He put a fuck load of weights on either side and Alex lay down lifting the bar above his chest.

"Fuck." He started sweating.

"Come on Cub."

He lowered the bar to his chest and almost bit through his lip lifting the bar back up. Wolf helped him put it back on the stand and quickly took a small weight off the bar making it a tiny bit lighter.

"Again but two."

"Why am I doing this?"

"Cause you're weak."

That shut him up. Wolf pushed him till he was shaking, his arms burning and then he made him do more till he was on six kilos, three either side, and barely able to hold it up let alone do the thirty reps the SAS officer was demanding of him.

"Come on Cub," he hovered over him. "I didn't get shot for some kid who couldn't lift six kilos."

"Fuck you."

He laughed and Alex forced himself to lower the bar to his chest and push it up, again and again while he counted it down. At fifteen he was ready to give up, at twenty he felt like his arms were going to drop off at thirty it slipped from his fingers and Wolf caught it one handed and put it back on the bar.

"Not bad, for a kid."

"Whatever." He panted.

"Come on." Wolf slapped his hand down on his belly and he moaned rolling off the bench and following him to some kind of leg machine where he made him do exactly the same thing. Surprisingly it didn't make his leg ache, in fact when he finally walked away with the soldier back to the changing room he felt good, better than he had in a while.

"Thanks for doing this."

"I wanted to come anyway, and this has got to be safer than any other gym in the country."

Alex started peeling off his shirt. "Still, you could have said no."

"Don't worry about it." Wolf was digging around in his bag for something.

Alex turned to him with a towel wrapped around his waist. "And I still owe you from Point Blanc."

"Yeah whatever…" he pulled a shampoo bottle from his bag and faced him eyes flicking over his chest.

Alex looked down at himself and swallowed getting the urge to cover the scar over his heart and the tattoo with his hand. "Yeah- I…" suddenly he didn't know what to say. "Where are the showers?"

"Through that door."

He could still feel his eyes on him as he walked away conscious of the burns over his shoulders and the line over his shoulder blade where Julius's bullet had grazed him. The scar on his leg where he'd shot himself and the score over his ribs from stellenboches knife. Jack never commented, she was used to them, no one else really saw them.

The showers were communal. He faced the wall and scraped his fingers through his hair and over his skin and then rushed dressing.

Back in the car Alex could feel Wolf's awkwardness, he nodded silently at the man on the gate holding up his ID and they got on the motorway.

"Sorry." The soldier was struggling for words. "Just, I didn't mean… you didn't look like that the last time I saw you."

"I know, a lot can happen in a year."

More silence, heavy with what Wolf would like to ask him.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." Alex stared out the window at the side of the motorway, the orange leaved trees were shivering in the wind. "You? Any lasting damage from Point Blank."

"No, they all hit me in the vest."

"What about Iraq?"

He swallowed. "It's a messy war we're fighting over there."

"Yeah?"

"Too many civilians involved, too many IEDs." He sighed. "We lost Snake, shot in the head right in front of me."

"Did he have kids?"

"No, a girlfriend."

"I liked him the best of all of you."

"Why was that?"

"He left me alone."

Wolf laughed. "Sorry. I was an idiot, too hot headed."

"Did you ever tell them that it was you who pushed me into the tripwire?"

"No."

Alex smiled. "What about the incident in the plane?"

"Definitely not."

"I saved your arse."

"Why didn't they let you jump?"

"They said I couldn't afford to get injured before the mission. You still scared of heights?"

"Not really." Wolf drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Bullshit."

"Shut up."

It felt okay again after that, Wolf cracking jokes and telling stories about an American marine unit so incompetent they got pinned down by two guys with AK-47s. Eagle shot both with one bullet from his sniper rifle. When he left that night, taken off duty by Eagle he called to him.

"See ya tomorrow Cub."

"See ya Wolf."


	17. Crystal Palace Aquacentre

It had been three weeks since the day the bomb went off, there had been a memorial ceremony for the painters and it was harder to get into school than an airport. As he went through the metal detectors that morning he saw Tom bouncing up and down just inside the gate, he pounced on him as soon as he was through security.

"Guess what! Guess what!"

"What?"

"I got scouted! I got scouted Alex!"

"For football?"

"Yes, he's from Chelsea! He wants me to go and play with some others on Saturday!"

Alex knew he should be excited but it felt like the walls of the school were falling down around him, he'd been better than Tom. He'd been so much better. Tom was going to play for a scout on Saturday.

And he wasn't.

"Alex?"

He beamed at him. "Man that's fucking fantastic!"

"Isn't it! He said if I get through Saturday I might get a trial, I mean I don't want to get my hopes up but… you never know."

"Shit, I can't believe it. You're gonna end up on the Chelsea team."

"I might Alex, I just might!"

He felt like his face was going to crack, his smile was becoming more fake the longer he tried to keep it up. Alex stumbled putting a hand to his head.

"Alex you alright?"

He winced. "I don't know, hey I'll see you in biology, get me a spot at the back okay? So you can tell me the details."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I just need to splash some water on my face. Well done man."

"Thanks Alex."

He went into the bathrooms stood by the door for thirty seconds getting a weird look from an upper sixth who was peeing in the urinal, then he went back the way he'd come out through security and walking along the street. It was a grey day, already the brief warmth of august had faded and the streets were autumnal, leaves brown and orange in the gutter the epitome of the death of summer. He sat on the side of the road looking at them; their wet decaying fragility.

Fuck it, he was going home.

The morning was blustery, it blew his hair around and made his eyes water slightly he shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked stones along the pavement. Alex tried to be genuinely happy for Tom but couldn't, he had those horrid thoughts at the back of his head bumping their way forwards. He tried to push them back but they wouldn't go, he abandoned himself to selfishness; it was his head.

He was jealous; he wanted to have the chance to wow a scout, to have a trial, to walk out onto a pitch with thousands of people screaming his name. Alex had wanted that since he'd started playing football at four. Instead he had three agents watching his every move and someone trying to kill him. Yassen was right, he should have tried harder to get out. Maybe if he had…

It went round and round in his head till he reached the front gate walking past the surprised agent and unlocking the front door. Inside was silent, full of ghosts of memories. He went to his room looking around it for the first time in too long.

There were three Chelsea team posters one of striker Didier Drogba and one of a football. His Chelsea scarf and hat were draped over the side of one of them, he couldn't remember the last time he'd gone to a match. It had probably been with Ian.

Changing out of his school uniform into his football shirt and a pair of trackies Alex went out into the back garden and got his football out from the garage and pumped it up before sending a soaring kick towards the net Ian had bought him. It flew straight over the fence.

"Alex?"

It was Wolf.

"Do you want to play?"

He looked as if he was about to refuse and tell him off for walking home alone but then he nodded. "Alright."

They talked. He knew they talked, mindless talking with no reason to it and then they went in and ate something and Alex came back out on his own.

With single minded determination he played all day through the ache in his leg jumping the fence when necessary to fetch the ball, the agent around the back watched impassively as he tried to keep it up, he could manage less air time than he used to. He was convinced he'd get it back, it's just practice… right?

Right?

Jack found him when she got home from work, she asked Wolf how long he'd been out there and then walked to him.

"Alex?"

He stopped, just stopped and turned to her. "I've lost it Jack."

"Lost what?"

"Lost it, lost my talent. My leg wont move like it used to, it wont do what I tell it to." Alex jiggled it about. "it's like its broken."

"What started all this?"

Trust Jack to cut right to the heart of the issue. He put his hands in his pockets, foot on the ball rolling it around.

"Tom got a trial for Chelsea Academy."

She sighed. "Oh Alex."

He shrugged. "It's what I wanted to do, I wanted to be a striker for Chelsea, to be part of the England team. It was a silly dream."

Jack walked forwards and put her hands on his shoulders. "It's not a silly dream Alex."

"I feel… I'm so angry Jack. I just want to… get these agents out of the house, off the grounds." He pulled out of her hold and kicked the football, it hit the post and bounced back at him. "Out of my life."

"At the moment they're necessary."

"Someone's always going to be trying to kill me."

"Maybe not Alex."

For a while they just stood there in the autumn afternoon then Alex turned leaving the football in the middle of the lawn. "I need a shower."

Stripping off in his room Alex showered pulled on underwear and some jeans and came out of his room hearing voices at the end of the corridor. That was strange; Jack was talking to someone in Ian's office.

"So he's working alone?"

"It would appear so." Russian accent smooth voice: Yassen. "How's Alex?"

"He's had an awful day."

"Why?"

"His best friend might have the chance to play professional football, which is or was Alex's dream. Before all this." Then she added mutinously. "And he was better than him before he broke his leg."

It made him feel warm hearing that.

"That is my fault."

"Hmm."

Alex walked into the doorway and leant against the doorframe, Yassen stood leaning against the desk Jack had her back to him. His blue eyes flicked to him, he rested his head against the wood letting him read his body language and his face. Perhaps he'd understand.

"You need a drink." Yassen said simply. "I'll meet you on Smith Street."

He walked past him hand brushing the back of his leg where Jack wouldn't see it.

"How does he get in?" Jack asked.

Alex shrugged. "I'll just go get a jacket."

"I'm not sure…"

"Jack I pity the person who tries to kill me when I'm with Yassen."

She sighed. "You're out no later than eleven."

"Okay."

"Don't drink too much."

Alex smiled and hugged her. "I wont, I'll see you later."

"How are you going to get out?"

"Run out the back yard and jump the fence."

She raised an eyebrow. "Elaborate."

"Watch."

She went the kitchen window and watched as Alex went out into the back garden picked up the football and kicked it deliberately high. Then he went and jumped the fence to get it back, threw the ball back and ran down the side of the neighbour's house. He was in Yassen's car before the agent realised he hadn't come back. Quickly he texted Jack to tell her not to worry and that he was going to his girlfriends so that she could tell Wolf and the whole of London wouldn't come to a standstill.

Alex opened the window and let the cool, damp air run through his wet hair. He caught Yassen watching him.

"It's not your fault, it's not about the football its about the dream itself. You grow up told you can do anything and when it turns out you cant…" he sighed. "How far is it?"

"Over there."

The pub was called _The Star Tavern, _it had the windows frosted with its name, mirrors and everything else that dictated a Victorian pub.

"Go upstairs."

He found a seat in the corner by the window, looking over Belgravia square and the embassy buildings. They were white and almost identical with their numbers and flags, their railings and steps. Yassen brought two pints of beer up and set them down on the table.

"What should I do Yassen?"

"As a career?"

"Yes."

"Something you'd be good at, something that would satisfy you satisfy your need to know the truth about things."

Alex took a gulp of beer. "What would that be?"

"The police? You'd have the ability to get justice done."

"They're easily overruled though. By bigger players."

"Cynical but true."

"What did you want to be when you were growing up?"

Yassen's face went blank. "That depends on if your asking about before I turned six or after I turned seven."

"What happened when you turned six?"

"My parents were killed."

Alex blinked. "I'm sorry."

He laughed. "Your father said exactly the same thing when I told him."

"What did you do?"

"I joined a gang."

"So what did you want to be before you turned six?"

"An engineer, I wanted to build spaceships. During the space race everyone wanted to be an astronaut, a technician or an engineer." He slipped a hand under his teeshirt and Alex saw the flash of a gun. "Some things change. After I killed the gang head I wanted control which is what led me to become this."

"Control?"

"No one controls me Alex, no one owns me, Scorpia have a loose hold but even they know that if I wanted to I could disappear from their eyes." He leant on the table. "What is it you want Alex?"

"I don't want anyone else to die for me."

"What else?"

Raising his glass to his lips Alex thought for a second. "I want… a little bit of excitement."

"Anything more?"

"You." Yassen's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, Alex stared into his drink. "As fucked up as that is."

The assassin smiled. "Sounds like a good place to start."

"So how do I do it?"

"That's up to you."

Alex nodded downed the rest of his pint and laughed. "it's not the end of the world then."

"You'd be wasted on football." Yassen said. "They're all stupid."

"Not all of them."

"What would you do with yourself when you weren't playing, have two prostitutes and party all night?"

"I'd have you, I'd have friends, I wouldn't be in constant danger."

"You don't think that it might bore you?"

"If I was running out onto a pitch with thousands of people cheering me on…" Alex rested his head on his hand. "If I could feel the excitement in the air as the forward walks towards the ball to kick off…"

"Another drink?"

"No, can we go somewhere?"

"And do what?"

"Something to make me feel alive."

"Like rob a bank, a train?"

"Rob a train? What's the point in robbing a train?"

"You are sitting in the very seat where The Great Train Robbery was planned."

"Seriously?"

"Of course their exit strategy was poor and they were all caught with the money afterwards but… it was still a good robbery."

Alex felt the seat beneath his bum, it was hard, old, varnished wood with a compressed cushion. It was like any other seat in the pub.

"Come on, you want to do something to make you feel alive?"

"Yeah."

Yassen drove him to what looked like a factory with high fences around it, he broke in using a boltcutter in the back of the car and parked in a carpark.

"What is this place Yassen?"

The buildings were concrete and everything else was corrugated iron.

"You'll see." He kicked his way through another door and into what looked like a dressing room. "Strip to your underwear."

"Here?"

"It's not what you think Alex."

He frowned but stripped, Yassen did the same and they were left in their boxers.

"Come on."

He was so confused, he thought perhaps the assassin had about to start doing things to him, instead he smelt chlorine and wrinkled his nose following him through another door. There was a pool in front of him with a complex diving rig, very very deep.

"Wow."

"I'll be right back."

Yassen went and Alex approached the structure shivering slightly from the cold tiles and chilly air, there were four levels, the highest being one that Olympic divers did their tricks off. The others went lower by degrees. He went to the second level standing on one the spring boards just as the lights of the pool came on.

"Jump then!"

Yassen stood on the side of the pool watching him, he smiled nervously and then bounced once and dived in. It knocked the breathe from him immediately, he rose out of the water with a gasp like a dead man waking up.

"Shit!"

"Did I forget to mention it's not heated?"

"When I catch you…"

He swam to the side hauled himself out and chased Yassen over the tiles.

"It's not safe to run by the pool." The assassin stated, sprinting.

"Pasty Russian git."

He laughed climbing the stairs to the third level with Alex in hot pursuit, stopping a metre from the edge and turning around. "Now Alex…"

"Uh uh uh, no psychology."

He put his hands up. "What about phsycho-analysation."

"Banned."

"I did that more for your sake than my own."

No more room, Yassen stood on the edge Alex stepped close. "It was self-preservation."

"To kill me in cold blood would have broken you, and then you wouldn't have me here now."

He shoved him and he flipped backwards off the platform into a perfect dive. When he surfaced Alex shook his head. "Fucking show off."

"Come on then."

Alex stepped backwards a about a metre and then ran and did a forwards flip off the platform, he ended up feet first and disorientated under the water. Coming up for air and flicking his hair from his eyes he saw Yassen barely a metre away treading water.

"How did you know about this place?"

"I had to learn to dive for a hit."

"Final level then?"

"yes."

As they made their way up the stairs Alex caught Yassen looking at his bum, which made him realise that he hadn't kissed him today, hadn't done anything in fact. Looking over the edge the water seemed a long way down, he swallowed and flinched as Yassen moved behind him hands on his hips and guided him to the edge.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, lips close to his ear.

Alex had his hands over Yassen's. "Erm."

"Jokes aside."

"Yes."

Yassen kissed his neck and wrapped his arms around his midriff and shoulders pressing his warmth to his back. Looking out over the pool he could see the lights of London, for every light there was a person happily or not so happily living out their lives. He could smell car exhaust fumes and the dampness of autumn.

"Do you trust _me_?"

"That would depend on the context."

"What wouldn't you trust me with?"

"I wouldn't trust you to not put your life in danger."

"What else?"

"I wouldn't trust you to kill me."

"I'd rather die than kill you."

Yassen laughed softly and Alex turned his head and glared at him. "I wouldn't trust you to kill me either."

"You know that the chances I'll have to are smaller than yours."

He huffed. "What are you going to do about the assassin?"

"He has no handler, no contacts. He's working entirely alone on a mission of vengeance, which therefore means he's entirely unpredictable and untrackable. I'll find him through the equipment he used to make the bomb."

"But that will take a while."

"Yes, it also means that I will be in London for a while."

"Looks like I'll be escaping to visit my girlfriend more often…"

"Interesting excuse…"

Alex turned around, Yassen's arms sliding over his wet skin. "So how many times did you wank over me?"

His eyes widened, he'd surprised him. "I do have some self-control."

"Just the once then?"

"Three times."

Alex laughed.

"And you?"

"I had a few dreams about you."

"What happened in them?"

"We were in Florence, I was standing on a balcony looking out over the city and you were behind me talking in Russian."

"_Really_?" He sounded deadly amused. "I don't speak in Russian very often."

"Only when I'm supposed to be asleep, or when I've got you in my mouth…"

Yassen ran his hand through Alex's wet hair. "You know you say my name in your sleep."

Alex blinked. "What?"

He raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"That's… dangerous."

Yassen just leant in and kissed him pulling him so hard against him he could feel everything, his nipples against his chest his ribs, his six pack his hips… He moved against him just a small amount and the assassin ground a moan from his throat. He was breathing hard against his lips as they parted.

"What time did Jack say you had to be back?"

"Eleven."

"We have to go."

Alex sighed. "Okay."

"Lean back." Yassen's hands gripped his hips.

He swallowed and leant back holding onto the assassin.

"Let go of me and put your arms over your head."

"What?"

"Trust me."

Taking a deep breath he let go of his hands and stretched his arms over his head.

"I'm going to let you go and you will fall backwards, don't panic just let it happen."

"I'm not sure…"

"You said you trusted me."

"Fine." Alex took a deep breath and felt it leave him in a moment as Yassen let him go and he fell backwards and London was suddenly upside down. He just kept falling, where the hell was the water? The impact was huge, his head shook and his arms were hit like he'd tried to do a handstand off a bench, his ears popped and then he was trying to find which way was up. Finally he floated to the surface and drew in a huge breath.

His heart was beating fast his system flooded with adrenaline, he laughed and looked at Yassen crouched up above him. "Get down here."

Yassen found towels somewhere and they pulled their clothes back on, there was no time for anything more he was barely going to get back by eleven at this rate.

While he was driving Alex watched him, watched his hands while he changed gear and turned the wheel. The only thing he could think about was his hands running up his legs.

When they reached the next street over from the house where Alex could slip back in over the fence Yassen stopped the car and turned the engine off. He turned to him.

"Err…"

"Yes?"

"Seeing as you have no trouble breaking in…" Alex swallowed. "Will you come to my room tonight?"

Yassen laughed. "Go Alex and receive your telling off from MI6 and Jack."

"And…"

"And we'll see."

He hadn't committed to it, did that mean he wasn't going to turn up? Alex moved as fast as possible hopping over the gearstick and onto Yassen's lap.

"Alex…"

He kissed him seeing his hands were up and then he felt one descend on his skin and one bury itself in his damp hair. Alex ran his hand down his chest and started kneading his crotch, the assassin grabbed his wrist but just squeezed instead of stopping him. Only when he felt him growing hard did he pull back and open the door sliding off his lap and out of the car.

"I'll see you later."


	18. The Largest Bedroom

Lying in bed looking up at the ceiling he wondered if he'd been too confident. He looked at the time: 3am. Where was Yassen?

He'd been two hours apologising to MI6 and being shouted at in a very real way by Jack. It had been hard not to smile knowing that he wouldn't be sleeping alone tonight, he'd showered obsessively and washed his hair. Now he wasn't so sure he was coming.

Huffing he turned over and curled up closing his eyes. It had probably been that last comment, he should have just left him.

"Such an idiot." He mumbled to himself with a huff closing his eyes and giving up, he was asleep within minutes.

_It was imperative that he set his alarm for the next morning, he didn't want Jack to come in and find him still in bed… He had to get out of bed and find his phone._

_But he couldn't be asked… he'd wake up near enough the right time…_

_But then again he probably wouldn't. Still, those hands felt nice on his back stroking over his shoulders and tracing his spine. Then lips on the tips of his shoulder blades as those fingers traced their way down his sides counting every rib…_

Soft kisses to his first rib and then the second, another over his spine as the covers were pulled down further below his bum. He'd gone to bed naked. A tongue over the indentations where his pelvis met his spine and a kiss at the top of the crease between his bum-cheeks. No way was he going to…

"Uh?"

Maybe he was, and his fingers too…

"Yassen?"

"Shh…"

Large hands spreading his legs, tongue flicking over _there_. He blushed fingers curling in his pillow and stifled a moan as his finger pushed inside, just the one curling and touching his prostate.

"Ngh…" he lifted his hips a little and pushed himself onto his elbows, spine curved a little and then into a U as he pushed in a second finger. Face buried in his pillow Alex hissed as something cold dripped into the fingers inside him and was pushed inside.

"Relax Alex."

Suddenly it hurt two fingers spreading to make room for a third. He was digging his nails into the mattress.

"Shh…" Yassen's other hand was massaging his lower back. "Relax."

"Cant…"

He touched his prostate lightly and Alex twitched, heat running over his skin in a wave. God it hurt, he felt like he was going to split. He let go of the breath he was holding in a rush and took another deep one letting it out in a slow stream. It hurt less now, he could feel his muscles loosening around his fingers. Raising his head he looked at Yassen eyes flicking down to where he was hard.

"Will you…" he asked.

"I think you will be too loud." Yassen said pulling his fingers out a little and pushing them back in curling them, Alex turned back around and bit into his wrist to stop himself crying out. "Definitely."

Then he pulled them out altogether leaving him feeling strangely empty and lay down beside him, Alex clambered on top of him ungracefully kissing him and rubbing his hard length against his toned stomach.

"In other dreams we were having sex." He whispered in yassen's ear. "In a car."

He chuckled. "How?"

"In the front seat against the dashboard."

The assassin rolled them over so he was on top. "That could be arranged."

"Now?"

"Not now." Yassen took his earlobe in his mouth. "For now I've got something else in mind.

* * *

><p>He'd arranged to meet him at exactly eight o-clock on the next street over. Alex was finishing his homework, glancing at the clock every few minutes to see that it was still half past seven. Two nights ago in the dark of his room, face buried in Yassen's shoulder trying to stifle the noises that he'd stroked from him, they'd agreed on this meeting and now he was almost nervous.<p>

After completing his last volumetric calculation for chemistry he sat at his desk, stretched and then picked up a book and started reading it sporadically.

"Alex!" jack shouted up the stairs.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want a cup of tea?"

"No thanks."

Ten minutes, he'd barely have time to drink it. He closed the book and waited impatiently till it was one minute to then went downstairs going into the kitchen where he found Jack, back to him, looking at her laptop. He was about to call out her name when he saw she was looking at a discount flight site, keying in London to New York.

She wanted to go home.

Alex swallowed and turned around pacing silently out of the room and calling her name.

"Jack?"

"In here." She called from the kitchen.

Alex came in and smiled, leaning against the counter next to her. The flight site was gone. "Hey, I just wanted to tell you..." he dropped his voice. "I'm meeting Yassen tonight."

"Why?"

Well he hadn't expected that question...

"He's going to be gone for a while, he wanted to see me before he left."

She frowned.

"What is it Jack?"

"I just wonder why he is doing this…" she said. "Why now?"

"I wondered that at first too… But I really just think that he wants something to do with me."

She swallowed. "Has he asked you anything about MI6?"

"No Jack, nothing about any of that."

"Just…" she slipped off her seat and hugged him. "Be careful okay."

"I will Jack."

He went to go to the back door but Wolf caught him, he was sitting at the dining table with paperwork right next to the door he needed to take to get out into the back garden.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"I think Jack wanted a word."

Wolf sighed and got up. "Okay."

He went into the kitchen and Alex slipped out of the back door running for the back fence and leaping it in the dark.

"Alex!" Wolf shouted after him, footsteps following his. He sprinted along the sideway and came onto the street seeing a car parked up the street, the same one Yassen had used before. But he didn't run to it he ran across the street instead hearing Wolf following him.

"Alex just stop!"

He was too close, he'd never loose him he stopped and turned.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!" Wolf grabbed him by his shoulders and shook him. "Some one is trying to kill you!"

"Don't you think I know that!" Alex shouted back pushing his hands off him. "Don't you think I fucking know!"

"So why are you out here then?" he demanded. "Tell me that!"

"I just want to get out!" Alex said. "Cant you understand that? You never let me out! I only get to go to school and come home."

"So where were you going?"

"My girlfriend's house."

"Why not just bring her home?"

"Cause I…" Alex ran out of ideas. "She doesn't know about any of this, it'd scare her."

"Bullshit, girls love this crap."

Alex drew breath but couldn't find any argument. "She wouldn't."

"Tell me the truth Cub."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked a can on the pavement halfway across the street. "MI6 watch me all the time, you really think I want to introduce her to this world. The one where my father killed people to keep his cover, where I have a rough tattoo on my chest that's not just cool but part of a ritual that was supposed to kill me." He turned slightly. "You really think I want MI6 to know who she is so they can use her _as well_ as Jack to blackmail me? I've only told Jack her name in case she has to inform her I'm dead."

Wolf blinked.

Alex stood waiting for him to say something and then he turned and walked slowly back over the street to the house disappearing into the shadows.

The spy jogged to the car and got into the passenger seat.

"What did you say to him?"

"Nothing that wasn't true."


	19. London Bridge Area

A penthouse. He'd broken into a penthouse.

One wall was entirely glass, in the centre was a circular area which contained a kitchen and a bar. The rest of the open plan area was devoted to a set of couches and a T.V, a working area with desk and a dining area. The bedroom was up a stylish flight of stairs that looked like planks of wood floating in mid air and in here the wall was too entirely glass providing a view of London bridge, the London eye and the houses of parliament.

"This place is amazing." He said as he came back down the stairs.

"Drink?" Yassen stood by the bar looking at the bottles.

"Whatever you're having."

He smiled and pulled a bottle of Vodka from the shelf along with two shot glasses.

"Straight?"

"I'm Russian."

Alex took the shot with it's clear liquid and threw it back the way he'd seen people do in movies. Then he started coughing as the burning liquid made its way down his throat.

"That's horrible."

"It grows on you." He poured another shot for him and Alex swallowed it making a face.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"No."

"Good." Alex lifted himself onto a stool and Yassen stepped between his legs hips grazing the inside of his thighs.

"At some point I will."

"Not tonight."

"No."

Alex was slightly higher so he could loop his arms comfortably around Yassen's shoulders, then he moved forward a bit till his legs were around his waist and they were pressed together. The assassin's hands were splayed over his lower back, moving his tee-shirt against his skin as they ran up and down.

Yassen leant in and kissed him running his hand up into his hair.

There was coiled tension in his stomach, like something was pushing between his lungs, his hands started sweating. Suddenly he wondered if it was going to hurt, surely it would… Would he bleed? Yassen wasn't small in any way shape or form, if he was going to be inside….

The assassin broke the kiss.

"Are you nervous?"

Alex avoided his eyes picking at the material of his shirt. "Well you only get one shot at this."

Suddenly Yassen froze, all tense muscles against him. "What?"

He looked up at him. "What?" Alex was confused.

"Only get one shot at what?"

Alex searched his face. "At _it._ Loosing it…"

Yassen just stared at him. "You're a virgin?"

"Yes."

The Russian pulled away, obviously shocked and turned away from him towards the bar.

"You didn't know?"

He picked up the bottle of Vodka and took a swig from it.

"Yassen?"

He slipped off the chair and Yassen turned, stepping backwards as if he were caustic.

Alex stayed where he was, he could feel something welling up inside him; not tears but something else. He didn't want him anywhere near him… didn't want him to touch him. Yassen didn't want him.

Why?

Why didn't he want him?

"I don't understand."

Alex hated the way he was looking at him, watching him like he was something to be feared. He wanted him to say something, anything.

"You should have told me."

"I thought you knew…"

Yassen turned and walked away from him vodka still in hand. "Go home Alex."

He blushed, suddenly feeling younger than he ever had and desperate to get out of this adult zone where he was no longer wanted. He went for the door fumbling with the handle and then running down the stairs rather than taking the lift. His legs were shaking by the time he reached the bottom and he was panting.

The receptionist stared at him as he ran past her and out into the street turning left. After a while he fell into a rhythm, he was running on a parallel with south bank. He knew he should hail a taxi and go home but he didn't want to have to try and make up a plausible lie for Jack, he just wanted to be silent. Finally when he couldn't run any more he slowed to a walk crossing a road in a bit of a daze. A car rounded the bend and he just remembered the crack of his head against the windscreen.


	20. Southbank

"Alex?" a voice, he blearily opened his eyes but everything was fuzzy and sliding all over the place, framed by his eyelashes. "Alex Rider?"

Someone, a shape of a head nothing more. Like something from a news programme where they didn't want their face shown.

"Where do you live Alex?"

He just stared at them until they pulled his eyelid up and shone a light into his right eye and then his left. Taking their wrist and pushing it away Alex tried to blink the world into focus but the light had started up a pounding in his head.

"I'm taking you to hospital."

They picked him up and he realised he had lying on something hard. They smelled of cologne, a nice cologne he slid his hand up their chest feeling a tee-shirt and looked up at them as they put him down in the front seat of a car and closed the door. His head rested against the glass seeing blobs of light pass him that slowly disappeared as he closed his eyes.

* * *

><p>He'd stopped moving.<p>

He'd been moving?

Where was he?

Car door opening, he was leaning on it. Someone caught him, had he been drugged? He was in danger.

Eyes open he launched himself at the man and slammed him into the side of another car hand around his throat.

"Who are you? Where am i?"

His hands were gripping his wrists. "I'm Serin, we met in Libya."

"What?" He looked around; underground car park, blue glossy paint in stripes over the pillars and then slammed the man into the car again. "What do you want with me?"

"I hit you, with my car." He was searching his face. "Don't you remember me?"

"No. I don't know you." Alex closed his eyes a wave of sickening nausea made his head spin, vision sliding into itself producing two of everything.

"I'm Abdullah, Captain Abdullah Latif."

Looking at him, squinting to try and make sense of the double vision, he turned his face to the side slightly and then to the other side. He'd changed; his hair was slightly longer than it had been, his face clean shaven and in jeans, a teeshirt and a jacket he looked younger. "You kissed me."

"Sorry."

"You saved my life."

"I thought you were dead. My contact said you were dead."

"It probably looked that way." Alex winced as another throb of pain went through his head. "Where are we?"

"My hospital."

"I can't go into hospital, I'm such an idiot. Why did I go out?" He let his forehead rest against the other man's shoulder hand sliding from around his neck to his chest.

"What are you talking about?"

"Can't go to hospital."

"Then where do you live?"

"God, what am I going to say to Jack?"

"Where do you live?"

"I'm so tired." He lifted his head and looked at Serin-Abdullah, eyes wide he just looked back and then sighed.

"Come on, I'll take you back to my flat."

He walked him backwards and dropped him into the front seat, he pulled in his legs and Serin closed the door behind him getting in the driver's seat.

"I have some painkillers at home."

"Okay."

It didn't take very long to get there, that or Alex's appreciation of time was skewed. Serin helped him out of the car and into a lift and then led him into a flat and sat him down on a stool in the kitchen peeling his jacket off his shoulders.

"Put your arms up."

Serin's fingers slipped underneath his tee-shirt ready to pull it over his head but Alex found himself stopping him. He'd grown to hate the look that Wolf had given him, that that girl had given him, that Tom displayed.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just…" Alex looked down and his eyes fixed on the lack of finger on his right hand then he let his wrists go and put his arms over his head.

He barely reacted, eyes scanning his chest and then moving to the bruising on his left arm and his hip.

"Stand up, take your jeans off too."

He pushed them down and Serin crouched in front of him following the pattern of dark marks on his skin. "Does this hurt?" He asked fingers either side of his leg, not over bruising, squeezing the bone gently between them.

"No."

He ran his fingers further up his thigh, over sensitive skin and did it again. Alex shook his head.

"Nothing broken." He reached up and moved the skin over his bruised hip. "What about that?"

"Just a little."

"Alright sit, I'll check your head and then you can sleep."

"Okay."

He dredged out a med-kit from a cupboard while Alex pulled his clothes back on and then came back. "Where does it hurt?"

Alex pointed to the right side of his head above his ear and gently Serin pulled back his hair from the area dabbing painfully at it with Cotton wool soaked in antiseptic. He tried not to grimace as he did it, cleaning away the dried blood.

"It looks good, clotted already. Does it hurt anywhere else?"

"No."

He checked the rest of his skull anyway, fingers running through his hair and then he looked into his eyes. "Look up." He did it. "Look down." He looked down at Serin's shoes, converses. "Left." He looked towards the dark living room and then right to the front door before looking back front.

"You're okay, not even a minor concussion just a few bruises."

Alex smiled. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"You can have my bed for the night."

"I don't need it, seriously I'll be fine on the couch."

"Don't refuse a Libyan's hospitality." Serin's arm slipped around his waist and lifted him to his feet, Alex didn't argue as he dumped him on a huge bed in an equally huge bedroom.

"Why are you back here? How did you get out of Libya?"

"I blew my cover." He held up his hand with it's missing finger. "There was an exit tax."

"Is that my fault?"

"Not entirely." He went to the chest of drawers against the wall and pulled out some boxers. "I just couldn't keep it up, I started loosing who I was."

He left and turned the light off. "Goodnight."

"Night." Alex struggled out of his clothes and slid underneath the feather duvet, he was asleep in moments.


	21. Camden

Jack was going to kill him.

Genuinely going to kill him.

He bolted upright.

"Ow!" his left arm hurt, really pulled it from beneath the covers and swore; it was black with bruising along was his leg. He got up and his vision darkened as blood rushed from his head sending a wave of dizziness. What happened last night? Where was Yassen?

Yassen.

Alex swallowed and suddenly remembered with alarming clarity the events of last night. They way he'd looked at him, like he was poisonous. Shit. He'd got hit by a car, he'd gone home with Serin who he hardly knew who – the last time he'd seen him – had been torturing a fellow agent. He had to get home, right now.

Pulling on his clothes he emerged from the bedroom, wary, and found Serin in the kitchen.

"Hi."

"How do you feel."

"Pretty shit."

He ran him a glass of water and put it down next to a pill on the table. "Take this."

"What is it?"

He looked around as if surprised by his wariness. "Cocodemol."

Alex studied the pill for a second before putting it in his mouth and washing it down.

"Are you really a doctor?"

He went to his coat that was hanging on the back of the door and slid a hospital I.D over the counter. DR. S Falif, the picture was him. He studied it for a moment, buying himself time, watching him.

"I need to go home, my guardian's going to be worried about me."

"I'll drive you, you should have something to eat with that pill."

"Why?"

"It's a form of asprin, on an empty stomach it can eat through your stomach lining."

He gently squeezed the pill he'd pretended to take in his hand and then nodded. "Alright."

Serin moved to one of the cupboard and pulled out a box of Kelloggs crunchy nut. "You like cereal?"

"Yeah."

He got out one bowl and poured some cereal into it.

"You not eating?"

"I ate earlier."

Alex eyed the bowl as he poured milk into it and when he got him a spoon he hesitated looking up at him, watching for any sign of anticipation.

Serin huffed and pulled a handful of the cereals out shoving them in his mouth and swigging from the bottle of milk before putting it back in the fridge.

"Happy?"

"Sorry." Alex produced the pill he hadn't swallowed from his hand and threw it in his mouth taking a spoonful of milk to swallow it with. "It seems like too much of a coincidence for me to get hit by you, of all the cars in London."

"I know." He sighed. "But I'm not trying to poison you."

He ate deliberately but not slowly finishing the bowl and then lifting it to his lips and drinking the milk, eyes still on Serin.

"Let's go." Said the doctor. "You can leave the bowl."

He following him out of the apartment noticing little things on the way out, like the fact there were no pictures of family on the walls or indeed any paintings or decoration. Perhaps he'd only moved in recently. Perhaps this wasn't his place, maybe it was just somewhere he'd taken him and he was waiting for him to collapse after the taking the pill.

Alex got in his car, moving his eyes around waiting for dizziness or drowsiness but none came. Serin just drove towards Chelsea and when they got close turned to him.

"Where am I going?"

"Take the next left."

He followed the instructions Alex gave him till they arrived on his street.

"What number."

"14."

He drove past Alex's house and stopped outside number fourteen two doors away turning the keys in the ignition and pulling them out. Silence.

Alex could feel him staring at him, he looked straight ahead down the road watching a few leaves blow across the tarmac. The sky was grey, not with rain just with the promise of winter. He opened the door and put his foot out of the car, going to get out but freezing as Serin grabbed his wrist.

"Wait."

He sat back in the seat, Serin kept hold of him; grip firm but not painful.

"I know you don't trust me…" he swallowed. "I understand that."

"I suppose you would."

"Yeah, I really would." He ran his thumb over the back of his hand. "Fuck, if anyone knows it's me."

Alex flexed his hand, looking at where their skin met; his north African against Alex's tanned British.

"You were running last night." Serin moved so he could see his eyes. "I know you were, I don't know why and I don't think anyone else does either."

"You've got _all_ the info."

"I'm not trying to intimidate you. I'm saying that I know you're in trouble."

"What are you proposing?"

"Nothing, just that if you want help I'll help you."

"I'm not going to need It. My "trouble" isn't interested in me anymore."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I."

Serin released him and look out of the window past his head. "How did you end up like this?"

"A man killed my parents, then my uncle trained me up. Conditioned me you might say."

"Where is he now?"

"Dead. Shot in the head, along with everyone else." Alex turned and got out the car. "I have your number."

"I have yours, you live at number ten."

He stopped leaning on the door and then laughed, Serin smiled.

"I hate spies." Alex said and then sighed. "Do you want to come in and meet my security and my guardian?"

"Security?"

"Did I not mention that someone's trying to kill me?"


	22. Blunt's Office

When Wolf opened the door Alex didn't quite know what to expect. Perhaps he'd thought he was going to get a tirade of "where the fuck have you been"s but he just looked him up and down surveying the damage and shouted over his shoulder letting he and Serin in.

"Jack!"

Alex knew instantly that she hadn't slept and was glad that the mark on his head was under his hair and not on his face. In fact he could probably hide all the bruises if he was careful.

"I'm sorry."

She grabbed him and squeezed him around the middle he suppressed a yelp of pain as everything twinged.

"What happened?"

"I got hit by a car."

"My car." Serin added in.

"So who the fuck are you?" Wolf asked.

"He's Serin Falif, we met in Libya." Alex said. "He saved my life."

"You're the Captain?" Jack asked.

"Was."

Wolf looked lost, but moved on. "So are you hurt Cub?"

"Just superficially." Alex smiled. "Serin's also a doctor."

Jack smiled back weakly. "How did you get hit by a car anyway?"

Alex swallowed. "She broke up with me, I guess I wasn't thinking straight."

He knew he'd have to have something for later when Jack wanted to know exactly what happened.

"Something happened while you were out last night." Wolf said. "MI6 got some intel. Apparently he's got access to your phone messages somehow."

"On my mobile?"

"Yes." Wolf shoved his hands in his pockets. "They said to bring you in to the bank and they'd brief you about a plan they've put together an hour from now."

"You didn't tell them I was missing last night did you?"

"No."

Alex had a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Any idea what this plan involves?"

"No."

He turned to Serin. "You'd better go, don't get involved again."

"Remember what I said."

With that the doctor left.

* * *

><p>Jones was silent, standing staring out the window while Blunt spoke fingers pressed together. She obviously didn't approve.<p>

"We have a lot of information on the assassin Klaus Werber. He is ex- German special forces, talented navigator and very fast on his feet however, he is a very bad shot from a distance."

"Meaning?"

"In all the years that he served he only ever took one head shot and he missed. He always goes for the chest shooting twice so as to cause enough damage for the target to die."

They weren't going to seriously ask him to do that were they? Fuck.

"We have the perfect venue for the set up. I believe your friend Tom is trialling for Chelsea academy on Monday?"


	23. Chelsea Stadium

He felt sick as he got on the bus. It was one from outside school that went past Chelsea stadium. Then he texted Tom:

_Coming 2 watch ur trial, B there soon._

The assassin would be setting himself up as he made his slow way on the bus, inside the stadium; perhaps on the roof or maybe in the stands. He'd visited the disabled bathroom at school ten minutes ago and let two operatives inside strap a bulletproof vest around his chest. He could feel it tight against his ribs as he breathed.

When he'd told Jack she'd flown into a rant, said it was fucking ridiculous. Actually used the F-Word. Then she'd started crying.

"What if something goes wrong?" she'd asked. "What if he decides to shoot you in the head? What if he hits you in the head by accident?"

And fuck if it was the only thing he could think about, a bullet going through his head.

He opened up his phone, he wanted to talk to someone, anyone. He couldn't talk about what was going on obviously but anything was better than watching the bus empty one person after another. He had Serin's mobile number which he'd stolen from his pocket while he'd been driving. He called the number.

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's Alex."

"Hi." He sounded surprised. "How are you?"

"I'm good, I escaped again."

"Where are you going?"

"Chelsea stadium, a mate of mine has a trial for the academy there today."

"Really? Fuck."

"What are you doing?"

"I was just seeing a friend. How are you going to get into the stadium?"

"Break in."

"I'm already in the area do you want company?"

He thought about it, about being alone about having him there; about having _someone_ there as he waited for the German Soldier to take a shot at him.

"Yeah if you want to come."

"I'll meet you by the west entrance."

"Okay."

He felt a little better as he rode the journey out and then got off the bus walking quickly to the west entrance where Serin was waiting leaning against his car.

"Hey."

"Hi."

He could tell him now, he could say to him that in ten minutes he could be dead. He didn't.

"What's your friend's name?"

"Tom."

"I'm guessing he's good."

"I haven't seen him play in a while but I think so." He approached a locked metal door that led towards the stands and dug out the tool Smithers had sent him looking around quickly before shoving it into the lock and turning hard.

"Where did you get that?"

"Last mission."

They made their way past the ticket office and ducked under the barriers heading for the stands but then they got to the final turn Alex stopped, hearing faraway shouts and whistles. Once he'd turned the corner there'd be a gun trained on him, suddenly this seemed so fucking stupid; so hit and miss. Literally.

"Alex?" Serin asked.

He swallowed running a hand over the bullet proof vest. "Sorry, just felt weird for a second."

Stepping into the open he started to hunch over, providing a smaller target but then raised his head and forced himself to walk upright. He wanted him to hit him in the chest and nowhere else.

They sat down at the very front and focused on the young players out on the field who were doing circuits.

"Which one's your friend?"

"Third in line behind the yellow cone." Tom wasn't looking in their direction, concentrating hard on the exercise. "Thank you for the other night, i'm sorry for walking in front of your car."

"It's okay. How's the bruising?"

"Better, still quite dark though." Alex looked to Serin who turned his head and met his gaze.

"What?"

Alex almost shied away from asking the question he wanted to but suddenly thought fuck it. "Why did you kiss me?"

Serin looked away. Looked down. "That prison, there were all kinds of sick things going on and one of them was that some of the officers…" he swallowed. "They used to interfere with some of the orphans of seditionists." He sighed. "I thought the best way of getting you that tracker was to act like I was one of them."

"Did it work?"

"Too well, they tried to recruit me which was when I blew my cover."

Alex took a deep breath. "Serin I'm glad you're here."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm just glad you're here, in case any of this goes wrong. Will you tell Jack I love her."

"Alex?"

Alex grabbed his hand and squeezed it quickly before standing up and raising his arms above his head as if he were stretching. It was the perfect shot and as he did it he heard a door bang behind him and a shout of something incomprehensible before all the air was knocked out of him and he fell to the side.


	24. Corridor B2 West Entrance

Something was wrong, he couldn't breathe. He lifted a hand to his chest and it came away sticky with blood. Why was he bleeding if he'd got shot in the vest?

Unless…

Armour piercing rounds.

Then something slipped underneath him and he was being hoisted into someone's arms, Yassen. Yassen was here.

"Yassen?" he managed.

The assassin looked down at him, still moving fast up the stairs through the stands and back towards the corridor he'd just left.

"Yassen I can't breathe."

There was concrete now instead of sky above his head and Yassen turned a corner before putting him down looking at someone else, Serin, who started undoing his jacket. Alex grabbed Yassen's hand lifting his head and looking at himself.

"Why can't I breathe?"

"Look at me Alex." Yassen cupped the side of his face leaning close. "I love you."

Then he kissed him, just kissed him so slowly and so deeply he couldn't feel anything else before pulling away, still close and looking into his eyes. His chest just kept getting tighter, it was becoming harder and harder to breathe.

"Yassen?"

Was this it? Everything was going back around the edges; was he dying?

"Why did you tell me to go?" He managed.

"I'm sorry." He kissed him again softly his words coming out fast. "I'm sorry."

"Was like you didn't want me anymore." He was suffocating, his lungs filling with blood.

"I'm sorry, I love you."

His vision was starting to go out of focus, he struggled to breathe but his lungs just wouldn't inflate. Alex tried to fight it, tried to stay awake but there was nothing he could do, he stared at the ceiling and let his last breath go.

"Alex?" Yassen shook him gently once and then sat back and began muttering in Russian, voice low and hollow running his fingers through his hair. A door slammed nearby and he still didn't move. Alex wanted to tell him to get out before MI6 caught him but he couldn't speak, he couldn't do anything.

"So he's dead." A German accented voice said. "He's finally fucking dead."

Yassen slowly turned to look past him and rose to his feet.

"Stay where you are."

There was gun fire, loud shots that bounced off the walls then other noises like fists beating clay.

"You killed him." Cold anger in that Russian voice. "You killed him before I had time to say anything."

"Please!" choking, and the sound of shoes scuffing against concrete; Yassen was strangling the man. Slowly.

The sounds of the German's shoes on the floor and his choking began to diminish and then ceased all together. In the silence Alex heard Yassen cock a gun and suddenly knew he had to do something he fought hard against whatever it was keeping him still. Succeeding only in closing his eyes. Then someone's fingers were against his neck over his pulse.

"Shit." They ripped open his shirt. "Fucking hell."

Then the sound of a zip being ripped down and he could breathe. His eyes snapped open and his chest heaved his hands jumping around trying to find something solid, finding Serin's hand. While he gasped in breaths he turned his head to where Yassen sat next to a body, gun in one bloody hand far too close to his head for comfort.

Coughing Alex let Serin go and levered himself up onto his elbow and then his knees crawling slowly over to Yassen and taking the gun, throwing it away to the side before collapsing in a bloody heap on the concrete. Dimly he recognised that he was shaking, his chest heaving for air and his vision dark with lack of oxygen but above anything else he was aware that he was alive. Actually alive.

His blissful revelation was interrupted by Yassen turning him over roughly.

"Are you stupid?"

"What?"

"Are you fucking stupid?"

He looked up at him blankly and yelped in protest as he dragged him to his unsteady feet and propelled him down the corridor.

"We're going."

He couldn't work out why, he staggered and almost fell but the assassin wrenched him upright again.

"Alex?" Serin asked.

"Don't tell them he kissed me!" Alex shouted back to him before he was pulled down a different corridor leaving a trail of blood behind.


	25. Rugby Street, Brunswick

Another car, a citron left hand drive. He slumped in the front seat while Yassen drove pulling off the vest half-heartedly and looking at where the bullets were embedded in the material. It was still dribbling blood from between layers of fibres and his white school shirt was brownish red and sticky as he pulled it back on. There were huge bruises blossoming over his chest and he was sure one of his ribs was cracked, he had one on the abused skin over his heart and another on his left side just below his pec.

Yassen parked in an underground car park and they took a lift up to the sixth floor of a building where he let himself into 614.

"Where are we?" Alex asked holding his rib as he made his way into a small kitchen where everything was crammed into every available space.

"It doesn't matter." Yassen slammed the front door behind him and deadlocked it. "Who's idea was that?"

"Blunt's."

The assassin looked dangerous as he began to pace the kitchen. Alex had never seen him like this, before he'd always been calm and collected, never as explosive as he seemed to be now.

"You actually walked out there and sat down with the intention of getting shot?"

Alex nodded.

"How did he know where you were going to be?"

"He bugged my phone."

"I can't believe you went through with this."

"They wanted to catch him."

"I can think of hundreds of other ways to use that information! MI6 weren't this fucking stupid when John was with them, they can't have been."

"I didn't want to do it."

"So why did you!" Now he was shouting. "They don't own you!"

"They said he'd shoot me in the chest."

"And what if he'd missed, what if he'd shot off your arm instead, got you in the head? What if he'd decided to spray the area with bullets."

"I guess I'm just lucky."

Yassen froze and instantly Alex knew he'd said the wrong thing. There was deathly silence for a moment and then he turn around and grabbed him by his shirt and jacket shaking him hard.

"Lucky? You could have fucking died Alex! I thought you were dead!"

He turned and hit the side of the microwave that sat on the counter swiping it straight off so it crashed onto the floor. Running both hands through his hair he leant on the counter, chest heaving. Alex stood there looking at him, frozen with what he recognised as fear for a moment before finally realising something.

Yassen had seen his father shot on a bridge and thought he was dead, he'd watch him "die". Then today he'd watched Alex get shot in the chest barely a couple of metres from him. He tried to imagine how he'd feel if he'd seen the assassin shot right in front of him.

Slowly he made his way around him and took his right hand putting it over his heart. He looked sideways at him.

"I still here Yassen." He just held his hand there letting him feel his heart beat. "I'm alive."

The assassin reached up with his other blood-flecked hand and cupped the side of his face pulling Alex towards him and kissing him softly. Almost like he was tissue paper. Lips barely touching. He didn't dare move, his breath catching in his throat until Yassen turned to him properly opening his mouth and deepening the kiss before wrapping an arm around his waist and slamming him into the wall.

Something dropped with a crash and the tinkle of breaking glass. Alex pushed into the kiss spreading his legs and felt Yassen press hard against him, hips angular against his inner thighs. He wanted this, wanted to feel his heart beat against his rib cage and tell him he was okay. The assassin slid his hand down from over his heart to his ribs and he twitched grabbing his hand as he pushed over the bruise and broke the kiss to let out a little moan of pain.

Taking no notice, Yassen started kissing the side of his neck, sucking and dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin beneath his jaw.

"Uh." Alex tipped his head back to allow him more room and hugged him tight raking his fingers through his hair, wall hard against the back of his head as the Russian kissed him again. Then he drew back shrugging his jacket off and throwing it hard into a cupboard, Alex did the same with his blazer and lifted Yassen's tee-shirt but he caught his hand and shoved him back into the wall. His head cracked into the plaster and the world blurred

Unbuttoning the front of Alex's school trousers Yassen pushed them down a little and turned him around holding him still with a hand on his lower back while he pulled them down the rest of the way. The younger could feel his cock touching the cold wall and tried to slow his breathing as the assassin nudged his legs further apart with his knees and dragged something over the counter. A quick glance told him it was a bottle of olive oil and a moment later the liquid was slipping between his cheeks, being massaged in with long fingers.

Alex rested his forehead against his wrist and swallowed thickly, waiting and then screwed his eyes closed with a hiss as two fingers slid inside, forcing their way to the knuckle and then back out again. He did it twice before adding a third.

"Shit." Alex said, hitting the wall and feeling a tear spring from his eye as Yassen stretched him.

"What?" Yassen started to mark his neck pressing against him and rubbing his length against his perineum and balls.

"Nothing." Alex gasped feeling him curl his fingers and touch his prostate before pulling back again and pushing hard back in. "Oh god."

He did it again, and again and then harder till he was muffling small screams into his arm. Then he withdrew his fingers and turned him back around kneeling down and untangling his feet from his shoes and trousers. Alex tried to avoid stepping on the glass as he put his bare feet down on the lino of the floor, steadying himself on Yassen's shoulder. The Russian still had all of his clothing on but his jacket with just the front of his cargos pulled down, and his slid his hands up Alex's inner thighs to midway before lifting him so his legs were hooked over his elbows and his upper body curled.

He lined himself up with his entrance, head of his cock soft and slippery with oil against the muscle, and then pushed forwards pressure building until he slipped inside.

"Fuck." Alex buried his hand in his hair and pulled, head snapping back and hitting the wall with a thud.

Yassen pushed the rest of the way in with a moan and pressed his forehead to Alex's shoulder, breath coming out in ragged gasps. "So tight."

Alex's hand was bunched in Yassen's tee-shirt, he wished he'd taken it off. He started to move against him and he hissed in pain.

"Yassen please." Alex pleaded. "Slowly, please slow."

He pulled out a little way and slid back inside, even deeper now and with some Russian words Alex was sure were curses. Then he did it again pulling out a little further and thrusting a little harder, hands curled tight where they rested on his waist.

Alex watched Yassen lift his head and look him in the eye, drawing out and shifting his hips forward before pushing back inside. His eyes snapped shut and he twitched violently head hitting the wall again, barely had he opened his eyes before the assassin did it again. Hitting his prostate mercilessly.

He was almost pulling out Yassen's hair, hitching up his tee-shirt at the back and leaving scratches over his shoulders. Prickly heat was shimmering over his skin in waves and he'd almost scream every time the assassin shifted his hold on his legs curling him up further or letting him slip down the wall. He couldn't take it, everything was overstimulated and contracted but it wasn't quite enough to bring him over the edge.

"Touch me?" he gasped.

"Not yet."

"God please, please…" he leant down and kissed him sinking his teeth into his lip, the assassin moaned holding the kiss and thrusting up hard. Alex carded his fingers through his hair digging his fingernails into his shoulder blade and reaching down to stroke himself but Yassen intercepted his hand and pinned it by his head.

"Wait."

It was overwhelming, he was on fire in a state of almost euphoria; dizzy with it.

"Yassen?"

The assassin swallowed and moved Alex's leg up till it rested over his shoulder, Bending him almost double and gripped his dick. The spy lost track of everything, eyes closed and then finally came, body spasms running the length of him as he did. He felt Yassen bury himself deep and opened his eyes seeing him shiver all over and jerk through his release.

His leg slipped slowly from his shoulder and he clung to him curling it around his waist as he let it drop. Supporting Alex's weight he shuffled into the next room and leant against the wall sliding down it till he was sat against it with the boneless teen in his lap

"I'm sorry." The younger muttered against his shoulder. "I didn't know where was blood in the vest, I thought he'd used armour piercing rounds."

Yassen gently pushed him to the side off his lap and pulled his trousers up doing up the button, Alex stared at him confused as he got to his feet but relaxed closing his eyes when he lifted him into his arms.

"For a moment I thought you were leaving."

He laid him in a double bed in another room and pulled off his top before joining him.

Alex shrugged into his arms kissing him softly feeling that his lip was swollen where he'd bitten him.

"Why did you tell me to go?"

Yassen kissed him this time turning him over and pressing himself to his back.

"Sleep, we'll talk about it later."

Alex smiled. "Okay."


	26. Brunswick Square

Alex woke and opened his eyes.

Darkness.

A spike of fear went through him and he threw his arms out to the sides expecting to hit wood, to find himself in another coffin but there was no resistance. He was in a bed.

Feeling his way to the edge he found a bedside table and a lamp which he switched on, it illuminated the smallish bedroom and he stared around him knowing instinctively that he was alone in this flat but not wanting to believe it. He got up and winced, he felt like his lower back had been compressed and then stretched out again, his neck ached and on top of that he hurt_ inside._

"Yassen?"

The flat was silent and all the lights were off, he checked the bathroom turning on the light and caught sight of himself in the mirror.

"Shit." He breathed.

There were love bites all over his neck, huge bruises where the bullets had hit him and nail marks on his back where Yassen had held him.

"Yassen?" he walked into the living room finding it empty and then looked into the kitchen.

The streetlight coming through the frosted glass of the window at the end caught the shards of glass where they lay, scattered like glitter on the kitchen floor. Alex's trousers and shoes were in a heap by the wall and his school blazer by the fridge. Yassen's jacket was gone.

He leant against the doorframe taking a deep breath before numbly tip-toeing into the kitchen and retrieving his clothes, he shook the glass from them and put them on before walking out of the flat. Leaving the lights on.

His wallet was in his pocket and his phone, off.

Alex found himself on a residential street, he followed it along till he hit another street, one way with bollards wither side of the road, he turned right. It looked a little like a shopping district, there was a wine bar on his right a clothes store called _Pokit_ on his left and more small shops and pharmacies all the way down the road. All closed for the night. Further up he walked past a Starbucks, offensively bright when compared to the dim orange street lights and next to it an empty supermarket . The only sign of life was nearer a pub called The Lamb which, as he came closer, seemed to be having a small party inside.

He stopped sitting down on a bench nearby next to a guy who was smoking and resting his head in his hands as he shivered.

"Yer'right kid, you look cold."

"I am cold." Alex said blankly, sitting back and looking at him. He was middleaged, slight cockney accent.

"You should'a put on a coat."

"I didn't think I'd be out this long."

"Where do yer come from?"

"Chelsea."

"The nice side'a town, what'choo doin in Brunswick?"

"Just ended up here."

"You in some trouble?"

"What?"

"Dat's blood on yer shirt not tomato sauce."

Alex pulled his jacket together over his shirt. "How do you know?"

"I used ter be a bouncer for one a the clubs in Soho, I fink I'll be knowing what blood looks like. You hurt cause there's a hospital just a block away?"

"No, and I didn't hurt anyone else either."

"Okay." He took out a box of cigarettes. "You want me ter splash you?"

"I'm underage."

"I started smoking at twelve."

Alex stared at the box and then took a cigarette putting it between his lips, the man pulled out a lighter and shook it before flicking a flame from the dregs of fluid in the bottom. He sucked the flame into the end and felt smoke fill his mouth, taking another breath in through his nose he took it down to the bottom of his lungs. As he breathed it back out he felt a dizzying rush go straight to his head.

"Thank you."

"Yer look like yer need it." he lit another cigarette for himself. "So what happened?"

"It's complicated." Alex started. "But I almost got shot, I worried someone that I care about, we had sex and then they left while I was asleep."

"She's some girl then?"

Alex took another drag. "You could say that."

"What's she like?"

"Dangerous, elusive, good looking, far too old for me."

"It ain't a woman is it?"

"No." _He's a 36 year old Russian male assassin_. Alex ran a hand through his hair. "How the fuck did I get into this?"

"How old are ya kid?"

"Fifteen." He sucked in more smoke seeking the head rush.

The man sighed. "Nuffink to be doin' but survivin'."

"I'm tired of surviving."

"Then go out and find yerself sommitt to take yer mind off it."

"I will."

"Listen kid yerve gotta be freezing, come in the pub and I'll buy you a hot drink."

"Thanks but I've got to go, thanks for splashing me." Alex got up, stiff and shivering throwing the cigarette end to the side. "Where's the nearest tube station?"

"Russell Square by the Brunswick centre."

"Thankyou."

"It aint nuffink, you take care a yerself. Don't let that charring crosser make a garden tool outa you. "

Charing crosser was cockney slang for tosser Alex dimly remembered, garden tool he didn't know but most of them rhymed so it was likely to be fool or cool. Probably fool.

"I'll try."

He walked away from the pub down the street until he hit another road and turned towards the Brunswick centre following the signs for the underground. Pulling his jacket together so hide his shirt so he wouldn't be arrested he bought a ticket and took the Piccadilly line to chelsea.

It was barely ten minutes but it gave him a chance to warm up even if he got strange looks from fellow passengers. He stole a man's black scarf as he got off and walked the rest of the way to his street winding it around his neck to hide the bites. Then he knocked on the door and waited for Jack to answer it.


	27. Jones's Office

Jack opened the door and gathered him into her arms squeezing him. "It all went okay, it all went okay."

She was beaming as she let him go but then her expression fell. "What is it?"

"Who else is here?" Alex asked peering over her shoulder.

"Some agents, they want to take you to the bank as soon as possible for a debrief." She looked over her shoulder herself and leant in whispering. "I heard from Wolf that Yassen showed up, and that he killed the assassin."

Alex swallowed. "Yes he did, he was… very annoyed."

"Why?"

"There was blood in the vest, I didn't know that, and it tightened when I got shot so I couldn't breathe. I passed out and he thought I'd actually got shot, that I'd died."

"Oh." Jack covered her mouth. "Why didn't you tell him?"

"I thought I was dying too, I thought that Werber had used armour piercing rounds."

"Oh Alex." She hugged him again. "That's horrible, but are you back on speaking terms again after that fight you had?"

Alex shook his head. "He was really angry, he said I'd been stupid to do it."

"Did he hurt you?" She'd been very angry after he'd told her the reason he'd been wondering around was because he and Yassen had had a fight. A verbal one he'd hastily added.

"No, I'm okay I just want a shower."

"Well those agents can wait till you've done at least that." She ushered him into the house. "Your freezing… and have you been smoking?"

He swallowed. "No, I sat down on a bench next to a smoker for a while…"

Alex walked through the lounge heading for the stairs, the agents sitting on the couch stood. "Mr Rider we've been ordered to escort you to the bank for debriefing."

"I'm having a shower first." He raced upstairs and went into the bathroom locking the door behind him.

"Mr Rider." One of the agents called through the door. "We were ordered to bring you immediately."

Stripping off he turned the shower on so it would warm up. "Pretend I was ten minutes later than I was."

The heat of the water on his back soothed the ache in his spine and the water was orangy brown with dried blood as he rubbed shower gel all over himself. Staring at the white tiles of the cubical he took a deep breath and hesitantly ran his fingers over his entrance, wincing when it hurt but glad there didn't seem to be any major damage.

He wondered if it hurt like that every time, every first time or if Yassen had just been too rough with him. The implications of what had actually happened still hadn't really set in, he knew he should feel something; perhaps he should be angry.

Alex put his back to the wall and slid down it sitting on the floor of the shower with the water hitting his head and shoulders, blocking out all other sound. He could feel something, something huge waiting to spill over into this calmness he couldn't quite feel what it was. Swallowing he pushed it to the back of his mind thinking through what he would write down as his statement when he got back to MI6, he could pop the bubble of emotion later.

* * *

><p>"We were very worried Alex." Mrs Jones said.<p>

Alex guessed she was saying it because she was the better liar, Blunt didn't look very worried at all.

"Did he hurt you in any way?"

"No, he shouted at me for a while." Alex said. "Cuffed me to a chair."

"How long did he shout at you for?"

"I don't know, maybe half an hour."

"What did he say?"

"A lot about how stupid he though the plan was. I asked him if it was him in Libya."

"What did he say?"

"That he got me out via Egypt but a ricochet hit me in the leg while he was crossing the border."

Blunt took a swig of water from a bottle on his desk. "Well that clears up that mystery."

"Then what happened?"

"He sat down with a drink, whisky I think, and just stared into space." Alex looked down as if he was embarrassed. "And I fell asleep with my head on the dining room table."

"You fell asleep?"

_God how he wished he hadn't, hadn't let his question go. _"Yeah, happened before I knew it and when I woke up he'd cuffed both hands behind my back and was dragging me down some stairs. Before I could see anything he put a blindfold on me and then we drove somewhere and he dumped me on a park bench in Brixton. Then he un-cuffed me and took the blind fold off pointing a gun at me till he got in the car and drove off.

"Did you get the…"

"Left hand drive citron, GU2 J91." Alex cut Blunt off. "But I have no idea where we were before Brixton, we drove for twenty minutes perhaps with more turns than I could count."

Mrs Jones crossed in front of the desk and perched on it looking down on Alex kindly before handing him several sheets of paper. "Could you write down everything you can remember of your time with Yassen after he took you from the stadium, in as much detail as possible. I especially want the conversation."

Alex didn't take the paper. "First can you tell me something… Perhaps along the lines of why the _fuck_ is he still alive?"

She blinked. "I cannot answer that one Alex."

"Well tell me why you thought he_ was_ dead."

"We had your statement that said you saw him die, we assumed that the body had been lost."

"Lost? Like a scarf or a jacket? This is a body… How the hell did he manage to get out?"

"He would have had help."

"From who?"

She sat stock still for a moment considering him and then reached over for a file that lay, without label, in front of blunt.

"Jones…" he warned.

"It's just a photo."

She opened the file and pulled a photo from it giving it to Alex. "This man, we believe, is the one who may have pulled him from the plane."

It was a passport photograph, a young blonde haired man with blue eyes and no smile wearing a flowery Hawaiian shirt. Alex looked at it and cocked his head to the side, apart from the lack of expression the photo was slightly comical.

"Who is he?"

"We don't know."

He looked up at her. "This is a passport photograph."

"An alias, Thomas Jenkins: American."

"What _do_ you know?"

"He's Russian, early twenties with a lot of contacts."

Alex waited and then slowly found himself looking incredulous. "Is that it?"

She had the decency to look a little embarrassed. "Our best guess is that he works as a freelance intelligence gatherer."

"If he has a many contacts as you say then you must know something about him, he must have some sort of name if only one that people know to contact him by."

"A different code name for every assignment, he goes through the phonetic alphabet."

Alex was absolutely gobsmacked. "But you've run his face through the system."

"Yes. We came up with 102 different identities, and counting." She gave him another sheet of photographic paper, there were thumbnails on this one; seven across and twenty down all of the same man.

"Shit."

"And that's just the ones that he got bureaucratically. Forgeries would run into the thousands." Blunt added.

In each picture there was a subtle difference, in the shade of hair or the eyes. The shirts went through every colour under the sun. Yassen had never mentioned him, however Alex had to admit there still wasn't a lot he knew about the assassin. Like whether or not he'd fuck him and leave. He found himself beginning to become short tempered and put the sheet of pictures back taking the paper.

"I'm tired."

"Understandably, could you write your statement and sign it before you go home?"

He nodded. "Can I have a pen?"


	28. Smokers Paradise

Alex sat at the head of his bed in the dark. Through his window slanted the yellow light of the streetlamp from the road, it passed half over his face leaving the rest in shadow.

There was a knock on the door.

"Alex?"

He pulled the covers up a bit to cover the nail marks. "I'm awake."

Jack pushed the door open a little and came and sat at the end of the bed. "Just you and me again."

"Yeah." The house was empty of agents, he hadn't seen Wolf to say goodbye. "Yeah I guess it is."

"You don't have to go to school tomorrow if you don't want to Alex."

He forced a smile. "Thanks but I want to, I'd like to – you know – go to lessons and… be normal."

Jack nodded. "Good, I'll get something really nice for dinner tomorrow and we'll have pancakes in the morning."

"Okay, I'd like that."

She looked down at her feet for a moment and then back up to Alex. "Are you okay?"

He swallowed, alarm bells ringing in his head gooseflesh climbing up his arms. "What do you mean?"

She smoothed out his quilt by her leg. "Just… I wondered if you were upset that Yassen was angry at you."

Alex felt a lump rise to his throat. Suddenly the ache inside him seemed to double and he shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet Jack's eye.

"What is it Alex?"

"Nothing." He tried to swallow the lump in his throat but it wouldn't go and he didn't trust himself to speak; he'd left, just left him there without telling him _anything_. Alex swallowed again and took a deep breath trying to think of something to say to Jack. "I just didn't think he was being very fair.

"Maybe it's for the best Alex…" She said gently.

"What?"

"He may have saved your life but he does… kill people."

"I know Jack." Alex looked away from her his eyes stinging and then rested his head in his hands. "I know."

"It's okay Alex," she came over and sat beside him wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "It's okay."

"It not okay." His voice broke and he found himself fighting off tears. "He killed Ian Jack, and I somehow managed to forget."

She wrapped both arms around him, rocking him gently. "It's not your fault Alex."

"Yes it is."

"Did he hurt you Alex? Did he hit you?"

He shook his head and sat up wiping his eyes angrily. "No."

"He did something though, what did he do Alex?"

"Nothing like that, he just…" He half wanted to tell her but he knew she wouldn't understand. "He threw a microwave and it scared me, cause I'd forgotten how strong he is and how dangerous he is. I haven't felt scared around him since he saved my life and then today he was just explosive, I realised how stupid I'd been. I trusted him, told him things and let him hug me." Kiss me, fuck me. "And I just wonder how deep all this goes, whether or not he's just in it for another reason."

"Maybe he is Alex, you should stay away from him."

He nodded and sniffed. "I will, I doubt I'll see him again."

"Was it very final?"

"He just left, and lied to me. He said he'd tell me why he'd chucked me out last time and then left me."

Alex could feel the tears coming back, he could remember Yassen kissing the back of his neck as he fell asleep.

"It's okay." Jack stroked his head. "Maybe we can just draw a line under all this now, all this with MI6 and with Yassen."

He nodded glumly and lay down pulling the covers up to his chin.

"You get a good night's sleep, it'll all be better in the morning, and even better the day after."

Alex smiled slightly and nodded. "Goodnight Jack."

"Goodnight Alex."

He lay there in the dark hearing Jack go back downstairs. He felt alone in his big bed in the big house, alone because he desperately wanted to tell someone but knew he couldn't. More tears rolled down his face and he curled up into a ball covering his head with his arms.

Why had he done this to him?

* * *

><p>The metal detectors and security personnel were gone. There was a special assembly to explain their absence and Tom was waiting for him by the entrance, he grabbed his arm and dragged him around the side of building.<p>

"Tom we have assembly."

"Sod the fucking assembly." He took him to a secluded nature area in a little part of the school ground that was usually filled with people who smoked and then turned to him face screwed up and punched him square in the jaw.

Alex staggered hand to his face.

"You dick head!"

"Ow Tom, what the fuck?"

"I should hit you again. You didn't _tell_ me? You…" he took another swing at him but Alex stepped inside his guard and pulled him into a bear hug.

"Stop it Tom, stop it."

"You bastard, sodding fucking bastard." He flailed at him and hit Alex's rib, he wheezed out a yelp of pain but tightened his hold.

"Tom calm down."

"I don't wanna fucking calm down." He shouted, voice muffled by Alex's uniform and his scarf but despite this his hands uncurled from fists and flattened against his back squeezing him hard. "You git."

"I'm sorry."

"I saw you get shot, you stood up and then…" his arms tightened around him even more and it became hard to breathe for a moment before he relaxed again. "Why didn't you tell me? I thought you were dead."

"I'm sorry."

Tom pulled back, his eyes red as he wiped them. "What does your girl have to say about it? Did you tell her?"

"She's pissed, we had sex and then she left while I was asleep."

Tom was torn between a smile and a frown. "You okay?"

"I don't know."

"But the sex was good?"

Alex thought back to how it had felt at the time and despite the fact that it had hurt quite a bit it had felt… "Amazing."

He smiled. "Now we're going to skive school, I don't care what you say we're going to sneak back to both of our homes get changed and go to Leicester Square to see a movie."

"What's on?" they headed out of the school ground together towards the front gate.

"Inbetweeners Movie?"

"Whatever, as long as it-"

"Doesn't have bullets in it." Tom finished.

Seeing Tom jump his side gate and sneak into his house to get changed felt just like old times, except his rib ached like hell and he almost failed getting over his own fence. Chucking on some jeans, a tee shirt and a bomber jacket he met Tom outside.

"So who was that guy?"

"Who?"

"The one who picked you up."

"How did you see that?"

"I was running towards you."

"I don't know how much I can tell you…"

"Come on Alex." Tom looked hurt.

"Fuck it, you signed the act… He's an assassin."

"What?"

"A Russian assassin, my father saved his life. He thinks he owes me something."

"And the other man?"

"A spy like me, I met him in Libya; he saved my life."

"I can't believe you know an assassin. What happened after that?"

"The guy who shot me came around to see if I was dead and Yassen killed him."

"What? Just like that?"

"Strangled him as slowly as he could."

"Fuck, that's scary."

Alex shoved his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, it is a bit."

"But you're okay right?"

"Yeah. What happened with you?"

"Well I saw you stand up and stretch, I was about to wave at you when I heard the sound of the gun going off and then you just fell and I knew you'd been hit so I started running. I saw that man run down, the Russian guy and pick you up and the other man followed him when he carried you away. My coach grabbed me and dragged me into the dressing rooms, the rest of the players were all really silent and then this guy came in in a suit and told us to stay where we were. I kept asking him whether you were okay but he just told me to stay where I was and…" Tom took a deep breath. "and I thought that meant you were dead. Then after about half an hour this other man came in and told the guy in the suit to take the rest of the players off and the coach so he could talk to me alone, and he told me it was a set up and that you were alive. Course I wanted to see you but he told me that wouldn't be possible and he got me to sign another piece of paper."

"I couldn't tell you, I couldn't tell anyone. I couldn't even tell the guy who was sitting next to me when I got shot."

"It's okay, I'm sorry I hit you."

"I probably deserved it."

"The other spy, was he angry?"

"I haven't spoken to him."

Alex saw a bus arrive at their stop that went to Leicester Square. "Quick, that's our bus."

They ran for it buying tickets from the driver.

"Shouldn't you lads be in school?"

"Teacher training day." Alex lied faultlessly taking his ticket. "Thank you."

* * *

><p>"Jack I'm home!"<p>

"You naughty boy!" she shouted back. "I said you could take the day off if you wanted."

"It was Tom's idea!" he looked in the kitchen. "Where are you?"

"I'm upstairs!"

He found Jack in what used to be Ian's room. "Whatcha doing in here?"

"I was looking for a vase."

"A vase? For flowers?"

"Yes."

"But you never buy flowers."

"No, but I saw some ones I liked when I was shopping… And now I can't find a vase."

Alex laughed. "I think there's one in the spare room."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He walked out of Ian's room and into the spare room picking up a small vase that was standing on the windowsill. "Here it is."

"It's a little small but… I guess it'll do, I could always put weights in it if it doesn't stay upright."

Alex discovered when he followed her downstairs that she'd bought the biggest bunch of flowers he'd ever seen. She put a few weights in the bottom of the vase from an ornamental weighing kit in the kitchen filled it up the rest of the way with water and shoved in the flowers. He laughed.

"What?"

"It looks like they're growing out of the table."

Jack laughed as well. "I like it, have you got any work to do?"

"A little from last week."

"Well, how about - seeing as you had such a work free day – you do it before tea and we'll chill out afterwards."

"Alright."

"Oh, and I got you a new phone."

"Cool."

She handed it over, in its packaging, an i-phone 4. "I sent the receipt to Mrs Jones."

"Really?" Alex asked.

"And you know what?"

"What?"

"They sent me an identical phone with the receipt and a letter to you, I took the other one back."

Alex's eyes widened. "Smithers…"

She handed him the letter.

_Alex,_

_I hear you've had a dreadful time of it lately, genius of your housekeeper Jack to send the receipt to Jones. The boldness of the American race has its uses sometimes. I intercepted it and gave you a service issue I-Phone. It contains:_

_A bug finder app that is listed under games as Insectoid slayer, it will also pick up tracking devices._

_A listening App that will work in concordance with the headphones supplied, just put it against the wall you'd like to hear through. It is listed as Audio-rocker on the main menu._

_Police radio tapper. Listed as pig-hunter under games._

_Car alarm interference, accessed through the alarm clock._

_I took the liberty of removing the standard tracker however, you already have one of those in your watch. It is untraceable and un-hackable and the glass and casing almost indestructible, (case made of titanium and touch-screen bulletproof). The vest you used yesterday was my invention, I had intended to brief you on its function before you used it but they sent those idiots from my department instead. For that I'm sorry._

_For all these apps there are instruction manuals provided with this letter, please dispose of them after reading._

_With the hope that this gift proves useful for purely childish and not professional endeavours, _

_Smithers._

"Cool."

"What is it?" he handed her the letters to read and manoeuvred himself with a wince into one of the bar seats at the counter. His rib had been hurting all day.

"That is pretty cool, does your rib still hurt?" Jack asked.

He nodded.

"Maybe you should go to the doctors."

"I'm sure it's okay, it's just bruised." Alex slipped back off the seat taking the letter and the other pieces of paper with the instructions on it upstairs. "I'll be back down when I've finished."

"Okay."


	29. Brunswick City Hospital

Up in his room Alex stood in front of the mirror and lifted his tee-shirt.

The bruises from the bullets were vivid black splotches on his chest and his rib seemed a little indented where Tom had hit it earlier. He really should see a doctor, but then further down there were the nail marks and more obvious the finger shaped bruises, not quite a complete hand but still recognisably hand shaped. Any doctor would have a field day with social services considering his age.

He'd have to go to Serin.

Running a finger over his rib Alex swallowed and dropped his shirt running his hands through his hair and trying to remember what happened to his old phone. He found it under his bed and turned it on, he had five messages, two from Tom, one from Jack and one from Serin. Two words:

_Ring me._

Sighing he pulled out his new phone and turned it on looking at the instructions Smithers had written, apparently it didn't need a Sim card. He keyed in Serin's number and rang him.

"Yes?" he sounded short tempered.

"It's Alex."

He was silent for a moment and then said: "Where are you?"

"Home."

"I want an explanation."

"I know, and I need your help so… What do you want to do?"

"Do you know where Brunswick hospital is?"

"What?"

"I'm at work, I've got three hours left come in and I'll see you as a patient."

"Isn't that unprofessional?"

"Shut up and get on a bus, its right by-"

"Brunswick Square, I know. I'll be there in half an hour."

"Give your name to reception they'll send you where you need to go."

Alex went back downstairs pulling on a jacket.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Serin just rang me, he wants to talk to me about what happened yesterday and I was also going to get him to look at my rib."

"Oh, okay. Where are you going?"

"Brunswick hospital."

"Do you want me to take you?"

"It think it'll be faster on the tube."

"You're probably right, it is rush hour. Get back before tea though."

"Okay."

It took him just over twenty minutes to get back to Russell Square station, everything was the same as when he'd left. He made his way back towards the pub where the man had given him the cigarette but turned before the road at the sign which pointed him towards UCL teaching hospital.

It was fucking huge. It took him walking around for five minutes to find reception and then she sent him off back in the direction he'd come giving him specific instructions that guided him to an empty corridor. He went along the doors looking at name plaques and took a deep breath knocking on the door which said Dr. Yusuf MD.

"Come in."

He opened the door and went into what turned out to be a pretty standard office, not an examination able or anything doctorish in sight apart from a bag by the desk that contained a stethoscope.

"Hi."

Serin sat in a leather computer chair in a suit, his shirt was undone to the third button his tie pulled loose around his neck. He looked tired.

"How old is he?"

Alex swallowed. "Thirty-six."

"Shit, I thought thirty."

The phone on Serin's desk rang and he sighed. "For fuck's sake."

Rubbing his eyes he picked it up. "Yes?"

Alex ran his hands through his hair wincing as his rib twinged. He hadn't really considered that Serin might decide to tell MI6 what he knew, retracting his statement. If he did then… Fuck. He'd be in deep, deep shit. He had no idea what they'd do but… Most worryingly if Jack knew…

If Jack knew she'd think he was… sick. Maybe he was.

"Yes, thank you, goodbye." Serin put the phone down and turned back to him.

"Are you with him?"

"What do you mean with him?"

"Are you going out, together…"

"I don't know, it's not really a standard relationship."

"But it is a relationship?"

Alex nodded. "Of some sort."

"I wondered if it was one way…"

One way? Like a road? Alex supposed it was, or at least it had been. He had no idea what to make of Yassen's actions now. "Not entirely."

"So are you in love with him?"

"No." knee jerk response as if someone at school had asked if he liked Sabina. Was it true? How the fuck was he supposed to know?

"But you care about him?"

He frowned, he'd unconsciously prevented himself from thinking this through too much and Serin was making him regret that. He should have answers to these questions. "I don't know, yes. I care about him."

"Who is he?"

"You know who he is, MI6 would have told you."

"Yassen Gregorovich, yes. I meant who is he to you? Why does he love you?"

Alex stood there blinking. "I suppose I should have asked him that myself."

"You don't know?"

"I know he loved my father, that he says he loves me too. I don't know why."

"Are you too scared to ask?"

Alex swallowed, was that it? No. "Too scared he'll give me the truth and I wont like it."

"Why not?"

"I know how fucked up this 'relationship' is, I know he's more than double my age and that he kills people… I don't really want to know why he loves me."

"In case it turns out to be more than you can handle?"

Alex went silent, perhaps he was a coward; he'd run away from these questions for too long. But then perhaps it was over now anyway. "It doesn't matter now anyway."

"Why not?"

"He's gone."

"Dead?"

"No." Alex crossed the room to the window looking out over the dark city. "Just gone. Maybe he got what he wanted…"

"What would that be?"

"I don't know, some elaborate revenge."

Serin got up from his chair and pulled the scarf from Alex's neck, he didn't stop him revealing the bites.

"Are you hurt elsewhere?"

"Just scratches." Alex stepped back from the window and undid his jacket dropping it to the floor before pulling his jumper and tee-shirt over his head.

Serin looked over the bruises from Yassen's hands. "He did this?"

"Yeah, the others are from the bullets."

"Have you seen a doctor."

"No, with the hand prints I didn't dare."

"Sit on my desk." Serin guided him over and he perched on the edge of the desk ontop of a few pieces of paper.

Serin put the heel of his hand gently on his sternum and reached around him splaying his hand on his back pushing softly on his chest and supporting him from behind.

"Does that hurt?"

"N-" He pushed a little harder. "Ah."

Alex grabbed his hand pushing him away cupping his ribs with the other, there were tears in his eyes as he looked up. "Yeah that hurts…"

"Sorry." Serin ran his fingers over the bruising. "Where exactly?"

Alex took his hand and moved it down a bit searching for the spot that hurt the most, looking up at the ceiling. He was aware that the doctor stood between his legs and that they were close, that his fingers were cold.

"There."

"Okay." He moved down a rib and pushed gingerly. "Does that hurt?"

"No."

He moved up a rib and did the same, this time Alex hissed. "Ow."

Serin left the lower injury and ran his fingers over the upper one pressing lightly. "This didn't hurt when pressed before?"

"No."

"Okay." He shifted backwards. "Stand up."

Alex slipped off the desk and turned facing the window, Serin crouched next to him hand on his lower back and his stomach. "Put your hand on my shoulder."

His shirt felt thin beneath his fingers, his skin was warm underneath it.

"Take as deep a breath as you can and hold it."

Alex inflated his lungs as far as he could wincing at the pain it produced in his ribs.

"That hurt?" Serin asked he nodded releasing the breath. "Again please."

Taking another deep breath Alex could feel his ribs tight against his lungs, he could also feel Serin's breath like a whisper of a touch against his skin. He was looking intently at his rib from the side.

"Let it go, it's not broken but very badly bruised. There's nothing I can do but medicate you."

"Oh."

"Bruising isn't gone from last week." Serin stood looking at his shoulder and arm. "You look a real mess."

"Thanks." Alex said dryly.

There was silence, Alex was aware he was looking at the bites on his neck, their angry red stark against his skin. He turned and went for his tee-shirt.

"Wait." Serin caught his arm and pulled him over to his desk rummaging in his drawer and pulling out a couple of tubes of cream. He took one with a long name on the front and screwed the top off squeezing it onto his fingers. It was a slightly blue gel that he rubbed carefully onto Alex's ribs, it was cold.

"What is it?"

"Ibuprofen gel, but concentrated. Turn around."

Alex turned, flinching when he rubbed a different cream on the crescent shaped marks left by Yassen's nails, then he nudged him around again and covered the rest of the hand shaped bruises in yet another cream. Finally he picked up the last cream which was a small tub of thick white stuff and lifted his chin smearing it over the bites and gently rubbing it in.

"Did you enjoy it?"

Alex swallowed. "Enjoy what?"

"Don't avoid the question." Serin said.

"Did you enjoy your first time?"

He looked like he wanted to say something but he didn't. "How's your head?"

"Okay."

Serin didn't take his word for it, when he'd finished with the cream he ran his fingers through his hair on the left side of his head finding the lump and checking its size.

"It's gone down a little bit."

"What about my ribs?"

"They'll take six weeks at the very least to heal, perhaps longer."

Alex sat on his desk again looking at the labels on the cream and memorising them. "Are you going to tell MI6?"

Serin sat down in his chair resting his hands in his lap. "I feel like I should, but if they knew then the repercussions would fall on you not him."

"I don't care about that, if they didn't trust me anymore then I'd be happy but I don't want Jack to know."

"I'll keep it to myself." Serin said.

Sitting under the fluorescent light in the ceiling Alex felt washed out, like an old watercolour. "Thank you."

"Try and stay away from him."

"He's the one who finds me."

"So say no."

Alex nodded and picked up his tee-shirt pulling it on along with his jumper. "Jack is expecting me."

"I'll find you some painkillers." Serin said leaving the office.

Getting dressed again Alex slipped the Ibuprofin gel into his pocket before picking up Serin's phone that lay on the desk. Pushing a button he looked at the door again before unlocking it using the button on the side. He looked through his messages finding none suspicious and then through his call history seeing his name along with a few others. No international numbers.

"What am I looking for?" he asked himself aloud leaving the phone and sitting down in Serin's chair. Thinking suspiciously there was a chance Serin could be some sort of double agent, that would fit with the state of his apartment the fact there was nothing personal in there… It would explain why he'd hit him with his car as well, some ploy to get close to him again, gain his trust. Now he knew about Yassen he had something to blackmail him with also. He'd been stupid.

Serin came back in with a box of pills. "You can take three a day one after each meal, they aren't too strong because any stronger meds would have other adverse effects, but they'll take the edge off."

"Okay."

He glanced at his phone on the desk. "Don't trust me then?"

Fuck, Serin had been a spy he was going to notice little things; he must have not put it back exactly right.

"A finger seems a little cheap for an exit tax."

"It is."

"Then who did you make a deal with?"

"Turns out saving your life was the smartest thing I ever did, they were just getting started on the torture when a guy comes in says his name's Rumel. They pause, confused and then he pulls out a gun and shoots them all. Then he puts me in a car gives me documents and tells me to take the eastern highway to the border. I ask him if he's MI6 and he shakes his head pulls out a picture of you and says 'you tried' then he burns the picture and disappears."

"What did he look like?"

"Blonde hair sunglasses, dressed like an American but had a French accent. Scar on his cheek. Anyone you know?"

Alex shook his head. "He said Rumel?"

"Yeah."

"Rumel…" Something was saying to him that the name was important but he'd never heard it before. "What did MI6 say to that?"

"Nothing, they didn't even tell me you were alive."

"Trying to protect themselves…" Alex sighed. "Thanks for the painkillers and stuff."

"It's okay."

"Sorry for looking through your phone."

"Did you find anything?"

"No."

"Do you want to come with me to a football match, Chelsea V Fullham?"

"Depends if you support Fullham."

"I don't like football."

"I'll text you." Alex said opening the door.

"Alright."


	30. Fortress Grove, Camden

He didn't really know how he came up with the idea to break into Serin's flat, but two days after he'd met him at the hospital he'd found himself thinking that if he went straight after school when he was still at work he'd have enough time to look through things and put them back exactly how he'd found them.

So here he was, going over everything with the bug finder in his phone, picking up the lid on the cistern in the bathroom. Checking for hairs left deliberately over paperwork before picking them up and skimming through them. He had no idea what he was looking for so he just looked at everything. There were some books in Arabic on the shelves in the living room that he couldn't read so he took photos on his phone of the titles for deciphering later and checked all the pages for concealed pieces of paper. There was nothing.

With no computer in the house he had to assume that he'd taken a laptop to work but he checked underneath all the surfaces, and through his drawers. He found that the coffee table wasn't actually mahogany but ply-board with a finish and that all of Serin's clothes were new, he wore tight underwear.

Then, taped to the underneath of the kitchen counter, he found a loaded handgun and three magazines. That proved nothing but that Serin thought he might have enemies which he likely did.

Sitting down on the couch he put his head in his hands. Now he just felt guilty.

The flat lacked a personal touch true but apart from the gun there was absolutely nothing suspicious and since the last time he'd been here last there was a singular painting on the wall. Dark oil on canvas depicting what looked like Venice.

Venice? Scorpia?

He went to the painting and pulled it carefully away from the wall but there was nothing taped to the back or anything on the wall. It appeared that it was just a painting.

Looking over the living room to make sure everything was as he'd found it Alex saw a leaflet on the coffee table and picked it up. It was for the national theatre, King Lear played by the Touring Globe Company.

"Hmm." Alex put it back and checked each room before leaving Serin's apartment.

* * *

><p>Tickets were fairly expensive for King Lear and the story line was bloody and tragic. Alex wasn't sure about it really but he ended up booking two tickets anyway for Friday evening trying to offset the feeling of guilt he still had for going through Serin's apartment.<p>

It also doubled as admission that he'd been through his stuff as he wouldn't have known to buy them otherwise but hopefully he'd forgive him. They arrived in the post on Thursday and Jack told him to have a good time as he went out the door on Friday evening in smart jeans and a shirt and broke into Serin's apartment once more sitting at the kitchen counter. He left the door open so he'd know someone was here when he came in and played Tetris on his phone while he waited.

He was on level 6 when he saw Serin in the doorway holding a scalpel eyes wide. He picked up the tickets and spread them to show there were two.

"Are you free tonight?"

He stared at him for about ten seconds. "To do what?"

"King Lear at seven thirty."

Another few seconds. "When?"

He was asking when he'd searched his flat.

"On Tuesday."

He sighed and then he nodded. "There's bolognaise sauce in the fridge and pasta in that cupboard." He headed for his bedroom leaving the scalpel on the table and pulling his shirt over his head.

Alex set to work making something to eat and when Serin came back, showered, shaved and changed it was waiting for him on the kitchen table. He looked good, semi-formal like him in black shoes, jeans and a white shirt and smelt like cologne as he sat down.

"You've eaten?" he asked.

"Yeah."

He tucked in. "Just because I'm going with you doesn't mean I condone you looking through my underwear drawer."

"You can look through mine if you like." Alex said. "There's more variety than in yours."

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "I got all my clothes at the same time when I got back."

"I figured."

"What brands do you have?"

Strange question. "Err… I've got one pair of Calvin Klein's, some bonds, one pair from tescos."

"Really?"

"Really, a couple from marks and spencer."

"Quality."

"And one pair from Louis vitton."

"Fashionable, which pair are you wearing now?"

"What?" Alex blushed.

"You know what I'm wearing I think it's fair."

"Yeah but you only own one brand." Serin raised his eyebrows expectantly. "The Louis Vitton."

"They comfy?"

"This is a weird conversation."

"Why? Too intimate for you? Did you strip my bed?"

Alex looked down at the kitchen table, Serin was getting his own back. "They're really comfy."

"What size are they?"

"I don't know; Jack gave them to me." Alex picked at the table with a fingernail.

He moved on. "What size bed do you sleep on?"

"Double."

"What colour are your sheets?"

"Umm, they're Chelsea football sheets."

Serin laughed. "I'm not sure you're going to enjoy the play."

"I'm not a total pleb."

"I'm not sure _I'm_ going to enjoy it, there's a lot of violence in it."

"We don't have to go if you don't want." Alex said.

"Oh I want to go." Serin said. "But I can promise that I'll be in a very cynical mood when we get back."

"Cynical is fine."

"Do you want a drink?" he was getting out a bottle of wine and a glass.

"Can I drink on the pills you gave me?"

"It'll probably make you dizzy."

"Probably?"

He shrugged. "I can't exactly remember what I gave you."

"Useful."

"How's your ribs?"

Alex lifted his shirt. "They don't seem to be getting any better."

"That's normal, have you been putting that gel on them?"

"What gel?"

"The gel you stole from my desk."

"I didn't-"

"It was there when I left and gone when I got back Alex, who else stole it?"

"Yeah, it helps." Then he added. "Sorry."

Opening the bottle of red he poured some into a glass ignoring Alex's apology. "I drank some absolute shit in Libya, they call it Sadiki. It tastes like paintstripper."

"You sure it wasn't vodka?"

Serin laughed. "Worse than vodka."

"I didn't know that was possible."

He looked at him eyes analytical and then changed the subject. "You know what King Lear's about?"

"A king has three daughters, he asks them to tell him how much they love him so he can divide up his kingdom accordingly. The youngest daughter refuses so he banishes her. The two older sisters aren't very nice to their father, they drive him insane, the younger sister fights them but is captured. The two older sisters fight over a man and kill each other, the younger sister is hanged the king dies of grief."

"Basically, yeah."

"Why did you want to see it?"

"A friend of mine's in it, she's Cordelia."

"That's pretty cool."

"She's an amazing actress. We should probably go, the theatre's nowhere near the station."

"Okay."

* * *

><p>Alex smiled smoothly at the girl on the door handing her the tickets and she directed them to their seats.<p>

"Row C."

"Thank you."

Serin followed him down the aisle. "You didn't tell me the tickets were in the stalls."

"Didn't I?"

"How much did you pay for the tickets?"

"Hey, look at the stage; it looks like Stonehenge."

"Give me an answer."

"Have you ever been to stone henge?" Alex asked sitting down in his seat.

"Stop changing the subject."

Alex looked at him blankly. "What were we talking about?"

Serin glanced at the tickets he still held and snatched them from his hand, catching Alex's wrist as he tried to grab them back and scanning it for the price.

"Shit." Serin swore softly.

Alex sighed sitting back in his seat. "It's for everything."

"And you said we didn't have to go?"

"Well if you didn't want to it would rather defeat the purpose."

"For one-hundred and eighty quid I'd go if I was mortally wounded." Then he winced. "Too soon?"

Alex laughed holding his ribs. "Don't make me laugh; it hurts."

"Sorry." He didn't look at all apologetic smiling at him, eyes glinting under the house lights. Alex smiled back.

"You know I knew something was off about you when we first met."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Alex smiled at him again. "It's in your eyes."

* * *

><p>Alex felt empty. Sort of cleansed, as if all his emotions had been washed away leaving him contented. He and Serin had barely spoken since the play had ended, inwardly digesting the experience. It had been so tragic and yet so beautiful, like a sunset reflected in broken glass.<p>

Walking through the dark streets of Camden from the station to Serin's flat Alex found himself smiling. "That was amazing."

"Yeah, yeah it was." Serin seemed as gobsmacked as him.

"Your friend was great."

"I… I've never seen anything like that before." He opened the door to his flat and they walked through to the kitchen. "I missed stuff like this when I was in Libya."

He led Alex through into the living room where he rootled through the drawer beneath the coffee table bringing out sandlewood incense sticks and several candles. Alex sat down on the sofa and watched him light them before turning out the light and sitting down next to him.

"How do you know her?"

"She's a friend from school." He smiled. "We were going to go to Rada together."

"You wanted to be an actor?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you?"

"Family wanted a doctor." He laughed bitterly. "But I guess I got my wish in a perverted way; I basically spent an entire year doing fucked up method acting. Stanislavsky's got nothing on me."

"When did you get back?"

"Half way through September."

"Did you get counselling?"

"No. I think they thought I'd snap out of it, like it was just a matter of choosing who to be."

"Like two personalities?"

"Exactly."

"So he's still up there?"

Serin nodded. "I find myself thinking thoughts that aren't mine."

"Like what?"

"You don't want to know." He rested his head in his hands. "God, the things I did… Like what happened to Gloucester…"

Alex swallowed, revulsion rising in his throat. Gloucester in the play had had his eyes removed by one of the kings. Serin had done that? He'd seen himself what he'd done to his partner but somehow he couldn't reconcile it with the man sitting next to him. How must it feel to be trapped like that, between death and disgust for yourself, slowly sinking into madness.

Slowly Alex reached out and touched Serin's back between his shoulder blades feeling him breathe, feeling how tense he was. His shirt was high quality cotton the weave tight but soft against his fingers, warm from Serin's skin beneath it.

Swallowing he started to rub small circles into his shoulders moving up to his neck and hearing the doctor sigh with pleasure as he kneaded it between his thumb and forefinger. Then he began to run his fingers through his thick black hair, playing with the strands and trailing his fingernails over his scalp. It felt nice, his hair was soft and it seemed to envelop his hand.

Serin lifted his head looking at him, his hand was still in his hair he trailed it down his neck and rested it there.

"I don't understand." He was frowning at him.

Alex stroked his hair where he'd run his fingers through it till it lay flat again. "Do you want me to stop?"

Serin blinked looked down at his feet and then shifted up the couch away from Alex before lying down on his side resting his head in his lap. He was facing away from him his legs folded against the arm of the chair, weight heavy and warm.

Alex rested an arm over his chest and put his hand in his hair again.

"Comfortable?"

He nodded curling up a little more and sighing contentedly.

Staring into the flame of the candle Alex watched the smoke of the incense curl over its smooth surface feeling Serin breathe against his arm, slow and deep. It felt slightly strange to have his head in his lap, for him - the smaller of the two - to be stroking his head. But at the same time it felt good to feel bigger, to have Serin look to him for something instead of feeling like he had no control over what was happening to him.

He knew he had to go but decided to wait until the incense had burnt out, he shifted his arm down Serin's body till it rested around his waist and laid his body over the top, head on his hip. Eyes open he watched the smoke curl and flick.

Watched

Watched

And fell asleep.


	31. The Living Room

_Blindfolded, all he could see was a very thin strip at the top and bottom of his vision. Someone stood behind him, his hands were tied behind his back so he could feel their legs and in-between them where they were hard. Their hands rested on his hips._

_"Who are you?"_

_"Take a guess."_

_"Yassen?"_

_Warm laughter breathing kisses to his neck as a hand slid into his underwear. Alex turned his head, trying to kiss him but their lips stayed just apart as he began to touch him. His hands tightened over Yassen's erection as he moaned and he felt him push against them._

_"Kiss me."_

_"Not yet."_

_He keened as Yassen cupped his balls, heavy in his hand and rolled them between his fingers._

_"Why did you leave?" Alex gasped._

_"Shh, I'll tell you later."_

* * *

><p>Darkness, the candle had burnt out. Serin had turned onto his back and had his head almost over his erection. He sat up and sighed, even in his dreams Yassen never gave him any answers. Serin also sat up.<p>

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

I wasn't okay, that had to be the fifth time in the last two weeks he'd woken up hard and when he tried to get himself off the only thing he could think about was waking up alone afterwards.

"Sounded like some dream…" Serin settled beside him so their legs were touching.

"Yeah. I should probably go have a cold shower." He said but made no move to get up, he couldn't be bothered, his chest ached with the repeated lie.

"Probably." Serin agreed, after he hadn't moved and shifted his leg against his.

Sitting there in the dark all he could think of was the way that it had felt that morning when they'd slept together, when his fingers had been slowly tracing his ribs and his arm. The soft kisses pressed to the tips of his shoulder blades and up his spine and then over his fluttering eyelids before descending to his lips. He'd said:

"Morning."

And Alex had smiled and turned over pressing his face to his neck smelling his skin and pressing his lips to it.

Serin took a deep breath next to him and let it out and then suddenly his fingers were on the inside of his leg just resting there. Alex swallowed tense; Serin had the wrong idea, completely the wrong idea… He probably thought he'd been dreaming about him, or maybe he'd just read the situation wrong. Alex raised his hand to stop him but as he ran one finger an inch down the seam of his jeans he stopped.

And closed his eyes shifting his legs a little wider, nudging Serin's knee with his own.

Serin's hand slid behind his back and guided him forwards in his seat, he swallowed and moved to the edge of the sofa and feeling him move behind him legs either side. Then he slid backwards, fitting snugly against him, now he could feel he was hard against his lower back.

"I…"

"Shh." Alex stopped him speaking, eyes still closed and then sat up. "No, I cant."

"Wait." His arms surrounded him holding him in place. "I'm not going to hurt you… Stay…"

Serin thought he was scared… So many lies… He should just tell him he didn't want him but the promise of release was so alluring that his chest hurt… He didn't want Serin but now, here… Could he really imagine he was someone else?

Serin put his left hand on his abdomen and slowly eased him backwards.

"Relax…"

"You don't understand."

"I think I do; he hurt you…"

That wasn't it at all…

"You don't know him…"

"I saw what he did to you…"

"I know… But…" What could he say? Yassen hadn't meant to? He didn't know that. "You just don't understand."

"Make me understand."

"I cant." Alex shook his head. "Why do you want to do this?"

His fingers trailed up his chest. "I can't explain it, you just… You're like me."

"Schizophrenic?"

He chuckled a bit. "No… You get why I have a gun underneath my counter…"

"You know I'm fifteen Serin."

"Yes. I don't think that's part of the attraction…"

"You don't think?"

"For Abdullah it would have been… but it's getting easier to separate myself from him. You make it easier because you know and your too perceptive; I can't get away with slipping up." He ran his hand up his inner thigh again. "Just let me touch you."

The ache of it… Alex closed his eyes again and sat back resting his hands on the thighs either side of his own, Serin breathed a kiss into his hair and his hands started moving.

First down to his belt which he undid with the other hand and then over his underwear, hand warm and heavy and he could feel his breath shorten as Serin rubbed over his erection. He set his teeth on edge running his palm up his leg and curling his fingers in his jeans and knew now that this was it, he began to see images behind his eyelids again. Vague associations.

The doctor ran his other hand over Alex's belly underneath his shirt and he hurriedly undid the buttons pulling it open to let him explore his chest, swallowing hard as Serin graced his ribs and squeezed his cock at the same time. He turned his head slightly and breathed against his neck for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"Underneath?" he asked and bit his lip as he lifted his waistband, moaning as he wrapped his fingers around his length.

"Like that?"

"Yeah… li-ike that." He reached back and ran his hand through Serin's hair closing his eyes and letting his had roll back as he began to stroke him, eyes sliding closed and his fingers clenching in the material of Serin's jeans.

It was sinfully easy in the darkness to convince himself that he was lying on a bed in a random house looking at the whirls in the ceiling, that it was that night in his own bed when Yassen had told him he had to be silent. He'd buried his face in Yassen's chest and smothered his moans while looking into his eyes. The hair beneath his hand was fair not black, the leg beneath his hand was toned from running not from climbing endless hospital stairs.

Yassen was smiling at him, holding him from behind as he looked down from a diving platform, his leg jumped and twined around the one beneath it, his spine curved and Yassen was here. Behind him, kissing his neck and whispering in barely audible Russian; he'd come back for him.

Alex smiled, a small laugh escaping his mouth, his hand shaking as he turned and cupped the back of Yassen's head before kissing him. In that moment the world was right, his release came and he opened his eyes to darkness. But even as he looked he saw brown not blue and the kiss was not right, it didn't fit with the fantasy.

He collapsed, breathing heavily against Serin's neck skin damp with sweat. The doctor wrapped his arms around him, kissing his neck.

"Okay?"

He was shaking. "I kissed you."

"Yeah."

"Oh fuck." Alex stopped his caressing hands and tucked himself back into his underwear with weak limbs pausing for a moment and then sitting up and covering his face with his hands. "I kissed you."

He was up and moving and recoiling from Serin's hands. "Dont… I shouldn't have… I've got to go."

"Alex… Wait." Serin followed him into the kitchen as he wedged on his shoes. "I'm sorry."

"Oh fuck fuck fuck." He felt like he was going to cry… "Why did I do that?"

"Alex, its my fault… I shouldn't have pushed you…"

"Don't touch me… just… I have to go."


	32. Alex's Bedroom

Jack wasn't up, thank fuck. Alex all but ran upstairs and stripped off, showering obsessively feeling disgusted with himself and muttering "why why why?" over and over again. Why had he done it, why did it feel like this and why wasn't he here? Why had he left?

Finally, when he started to worry if he'd wake jack with the excessive water useage he got out, thankful that the mirror was steamed up and crawling into bed in the dark. He lay awake curled up in a ball, wanting to cry but unable to.

"I'm sorry." He whispered to the dark.

_"Tonight on the show we have had the pleasure of having young Alex Rider, spy extraordinaire and linguist choosing his date. And here we are down to the last two contestants."_

_A crowd cheered, Alex sat one side of a partition and Yassen and Serin sat on the other. The host was Blunt, voice weirdly jovial, dressed in a purple suit._

_"How are you doing Alex?"_

_His own voice, also weirdly happy through the PA system. "It's a hard decision, both of them seem to really care about me."_

_"You do have to choose, but not until after the break."_

_The programme cut to adverts, a woman was putting washing in the washing machine; white shirts with blood stains._

_"Stains like these can be really difficult to get out, that's why I use vanish 60 in 1. The only washing powder for spies and assassins."_

_A man was sat in a hotel room in front of a bag and two piles: one of clothing and one of weaponry._

_"Ever get to the night before a hit and realise your gear won't fit in your bag?"_

_The suit case flew to the side and disappeared through the wall, it was replaced by the black bag Yassen had been carrying in Libya._

_"Don't worry, the hold all 6000 is here. With two compartments; one for your guns and one for your clothes. You'll never panic over an assassination again."_

_"Thanks hold-all 6000." The man put his thumbs up._

_Blind date._

_"And we're back, our contestant Alex faces a difficult choice between candidate B or candidate C."_

_"I certainly do." Alex beamed at the camera._

_"The lucky candidate will have the chance to go with Alex to a luxury resort in India, The Royal Taj Mahal Hotel. Are you looking forward to that Alex?"_

_"Very much."_

_"Right, then we'll get right down to it, Alex please choose your blind date."_

_Tense seconds, he bit his lip plagued with indecision. Members of the audience were zoomed in on, Jack, Tom and Sabina all with their fingers crossed._

_"I choose…"_

_Blunts face, his eyes wide with excitement._

_"C."_

_The audience cheered, standing up in their seats and jumping up and down. Yassen's light went out and Serin ran forwards greeting Alex and kissing him. The camera didn't follow them however, it focused on the darkness of the B booth and the man who got up from his chair and strode into the darkness behind it. Back here it was dim, all wires and cameras but he wove through the lot. _

_Panic, it was keeping him in this camera, keeping him from going to Yassen. He pleaded with his dream self to follow him but the bright, jolly Alex was nowhere to be seen._

_The assassin took an outside door finding himself in a car park and the camera panned around to the front. Yassen had tears in his grief widened eyes and he looked up at the camera pulling a gun from his jacket and cocking it._

_"I love you."_

_Raising it to his head he pulled the trigger._

"NO!" Alex fought his way free of the covers. "No no no, oh god."

"So you care about him then."

Alex froze eyes wide, someone stood in the corner of his room in the deepest patch of shadow by his cupboard. He threw himself over the other side of the bed fumbling for the empty gun that Yassen had left the first time he'd ever properly kissed him. He cocked it lying on the floor totally exposed should the man shoot at him from underneath the bed.

"Stand up." His accent was French.

"We're both armed why should I do as you say?"

"Because you can't throw an empty gun as fast as a bullet."

A professional then, searched his room before he'd woken up, but then he'd woken up of his own accord so had he had time to do the entire thing? Did he know about the knife in the top drawer of his bedside table?

"Stand up Alex."

He stood up slowly and threw the gun onto the bed where it bounced twice before lying still on the quilt.

"Turn on the bedside lamp and put your hands behind your head."

He reached for the bedside lamp trailing his hand through the drawer and picking up the knife as he turned it on sliding his hands into this hair with the knife against his scalp.

"You?"

"You know me?"

It was the man from all the photographs in Blunt's office, he wore dark jeans and a dark jumper instead of a garish shirt.

"Not your name…"

"I see…" he glanced at the scars on his chest focusing especially on the scorpion.

"How did you get Yassen off Air force one?"

"A bit of trickery and luck. I thought about taking you too."

"Why?"

"Because he was holding onto you."

Alex could remember Yassen's hand on his arm, the way he'd said he loved him,_ loved_ him… Was that a lie? It was so _fucking_ confusing.

"You can drop the French accent I know your Russian."

"This is the persona I've decided to adopt when dealing with you."

Something clicked in Alex's brain and he sighed. "Rumel. Lemur."

He inclined his head.

"What do you want from me?"

"I want to know what you did to Yassen that has him drowning himself in Vodka in Lyon."

"He's in Lyon?" the flat that his father had given him.

"Yes, in John Riders flat. I'm sure the irony isn't lost on you."

"Where's the flat?"

"On the river bank."

"What's the address?"

"What did you do?"

"What did_ I_ do?"

"Well… like father like son…" His voice was bitter.

"What the fuck do you mean by that?"

"That your father was a bastard who screwed with everyone he came across." He'd stopped pointing the gun at him dropping it to his side, Alex dropped his hands from his head too.

"Don't you dare…"

"Don't defend him, You never knew him."

"He's still my father."

"He manipulated everyone."

"Yassen must have got some lessons then."

Rumel – Lemur just looked at him taking in the knife in his hand. "Are your ribs broken?"

"No, just bruised."

"How did that happen?"

"Bullet proof vest." Alex's eyes were narrowed. "I had a run in with an assassin, Yassen killed him."

"Werber?"

"Yes."

He put the gun away, alex kept hold of the knife. "Then what happened?"

"Yassen was a little angry that I'd taken such a big risk."

"And then…"

"We had sex and he left while I was asleep."

"Does he often do that?"

"It was my first time."

"You mean…" Rumel cocked his head to the side. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"You know he's thirty six."

"I'm not an idiot."

Slowly he conceded: "I don't understand..."

"Neither do I." Alex put the knife down and crossed his arms. "It thought that maybe he'd got what he wanted or something."

The man was looking at him, just staring at him with his dark eyes totally unreadable.

"I don't know…" Alex avoided his eyes unfolded his arms and refolded them.

Rumel stared at him for a few more moments and then pulled his jacket together and walked out.


	33. The shower

"Alex? It's time to wake up."

"I'm awake." He hadn't slept since Rumel had left and sat up getting out of bed.

Jack was staring at the gun that lay near the foot of the bed. "What's that doing there?"

"Err."

There wasn't a plausible lie he could tell so he sighed. "I had a visitor in the night."

"A visitor?"

"A friend of Yassen's."

"Was he dangerous?"

"I doubt any friends of Yassen aren't dangerous but he just wanted to talk to me."

"About what?"

"About the fact that Yassen appears to be trying to drown himself in Vodka, he thought it was my fault."

Jack just stared at him. "What? Is it?"

"No, I don't think so."

"What time was this?"

"About three." Alex got out of bed and grabbed his towel that was hanging on the back of the door. "We didn't talk for very long."

"What was his name?"

"No idea."

"What did he look like?"

"Tall, dark eyes dark hair… pretty good looking you probably would have liked him."

"Don't be silly Alex. Are you going to tell MI6?"

Alex hadn't even considered it. "No, I don't think so. He didn't mean me any harm I don't think and they might try and use it against me."

She sighed, nodding. "You have a point, is that all he said?"

"Yeah, just What have you done to Yassen? I freaked out and went for the gun but he knew it wasn't loaded and then I told him that I hadn't done anything to him and he left."

"Weird."

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, he didn't hurt me."

She nodded. "What time did you get back?"

Oh shit, how could he forget Serin? What he'd done with him. He swallowed. "Around one."

"Was the play good?"

"Yeah, brilliant."

"I'll go and get breakfast, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine Jack."

"Alright, I'll make pancakes. Did you see the news at all last night?"

"No. Why?"

"There's been a shooting in the british museum…" she went down stairs.

Well she was worried, hence the pancakes, but then that was understandable. Alex went and jumped in the shower going over the conversation with Rumel for the hundredth time since he'd left. He'd thought all night about getting on a train headed for Paris and then changing for Lyon but even if he got there he didn't know where the flat was, and what if Yassen really just didn't want to see him? He didn't think he could cope with that. He didn't want to give him the opportunity to hurt him more.

God he was so angry, the persistent little flare of hope that he might come back made him so infuriated with himself for being such a girl. He brought back all the old arguments, trying to say to himself that he wasn't coming back because he was a bastard and he'd taken advantage of him and that how could he even think about wanting him when he'd killed Ian.

Alex hit the wall with a clenched fist. How had he fallen for all that shit? All that: 'I'm not the problem.' 'I'm not going to hurt you'. Even if he did come back he didn't want him anymore.

"Fucking liar." Alex said to himself and then laughed a little at the idiocy of it. He guessed it didn't matter if he was lying to himself or not, Yassen probably wasn't coming back.

(and he was only saying that because he secretly hoped he was)


	34. Smith street

"Fucking art prep!" Tom moaned. "Why?"

Alex stared the table.

"Why don't you _care_ Alex?" he demanded melodramatically.

"If you didn't want to do extra work you shouldn't have taken art."

"Oh voice of reason where were you when I picked my GCSEs?"

"France."

Tom started banging his head against the table but then straightened up and looked at him seriously. "What were you doing in france?"

"Snowboarding…"

"Snowboarding?"

"Getting shot at while snowboarding."

"You still think that excuse is going to fly?" he asked hitting the table with his fist expecting him to laugh but Alex barely cracked a smile. "Come on… what's up with you today?"

Alex shrugged. "Just tired."

"No you're not, if you're tired you look like James." They both looked to the boy in front of them who was white as a sheet with dark circles underneath his eyes.

"His parents fighting again?"

"Yeah, all night apaz. You look more like Molly over there."

The girl was slumped in her chair looking out the window.

"And she's just being a wimp over the fact that Lyle broke up with her."

"I missed that one."

"You don't give a shit. So what's up? Your girl give you the flick?"

"Pretty much."

"Oh." Tom now didn't know what to say. "Sorry."

"I'ts okay, well it's not but… she's too old for me anyway."

"Well… what about Jay? I heard she likes you."

"What about William?"

"Nah, he doesn't like her anymore."

Alex smiled to himself as the bell went.

"End of the fucking school day I still have to be here for two whole miserable hours!" Tom cried to the ceiling.

"I'll see you tomorrow mate." Alex grabbed his books and headed for his locker dumping them in the top section and grabbing his bag from the bottom. He swung it over his shoulder and walked towards the school gates where his bike was locked up against the fence and when he got there he stopped dead.

On the opposite side of the road there was a blue Renault parked between a large land rover being filled up with children and a vintage Jaguar. Leaning against it looking straight at him was Yassen, hair a little longer, dressed in jeans a shirt and a jumper.

Shocked he stood there with people milling around him for a long time and then swallowed looking down at his feet. Yassen had taken a huge risk in coming here… that was probably meant to mean something. He was also just standing there waiting which meant he was giving him some sort of choice.

Glancing at his bike, Alex knew instinctively that if he got on it and rode away Yassen wouldn't follow him. It was a matter of saying stop just like last time. He could – he should leave him behind and move on. This wasn't healthy, it wasn't right and yet even the thought of it made his chest hurt so much he couldn't breathe.

Alex knew the wise choice, he knew he should say no but he couldn't turn away from the car. His hands were shaking and sweaty as he crossed the road looking for cars until he stood less than a metre from him. He couldn't tear his eyes from the road for a long time but with a deep breath he lifted them, finally meeting Yassen's eye. Then he walked around the car and got in the passenger's side fumbling with the door handle and Yassen started the car.


	35. Whitehall

"Where are we going?"

"Whitehall."

He drove carefully, unobtrusively. Silently. Alex was desperate to say something, the tension in the car almost too much to bear, adrenaline was flooding through his system winding him up like a clock. The only problem was, what did he ask first? Why are you back or why did you leave? It was easier to let Yassen begin the conversation, except he wasn't.

Whitehall wasn't exactly fucking close. Just when he was about to start asking how far it was Yassen parked and got out, Alex took a deep breath feeling his stomach do a giant flip and got out himself swinging his backpack over one shoulder. Yassen was waiting for him by some stairs that lead to the servant's entrance of an old town house and he opened the door at the bottom holding it open for him.

Alex stopped in the doorway staring into the dark inside and glanced at Yassen before walking in, dumping his bag by the door.

It was a damp basement room with a singular window set at head height into the wall, white curtains framed it lit with grey November light.

"Who lives here?"

"No one, it's a shell." Yassen sat down on a wooden chair in the middle of the room arms draped over the back. The only sign that he wasn't relaxed was his fingers curled tight around the wood. "A place where people spend a night and move on."

"I bit like me then." Alex crossed to the window leaning against the frame looking out over the wet pavement.

"You aren't a shell."

"I feel like one." A woman's feet passed, black shiny heels and tights. "It's all I feel like."

"It's not what you think Alex."

He swallowed still trying to work out which question to ask and then asked a different one. "Tell me about my father Yassen."

The assassin rested his chin on his arms watching Alex. "He told me he was a double agent, he told me he had a wife and just before MI6 shot- before he left he told me she was pregnant."

"Why did he tell you?"

"I don't know, I thought at the time it was because he loved me."

"Is that no longer a plausible explanation?" Alex asked.

"He left me, he chose your mother. He chose you."

"Doesn't mean he didn't love you."

Yassen laughed, a brittle sound in the dim light of the basement. "He just loved her more."

Alex turned to him, little more than a silhouette. "And what about me? Am I your revenge?"

"No." He sounded incredulous. "Is that what you think?"

"I don't know what to think, but it seems the most obvious reason you'd leave like that."

"Look at me Alex." He turned his head away from the street . "You aren't my revenge."

"Then why did you leave?"

"I was angry, about the set up… I didn't mean to…" Yassen huffed. "You were a virgin…"

"Yes, I was. And after my first time I woke up alone."

"That's not what I meant, I didn't leave because you were a virgin I left because I didn't think you'd want me there when you woke up."

"Why?" Alex demanded. "Why the fuck would you think that?"

"I…" Yassen ran his hand violently through his hair and then picked up the chair and threw it at the wall where it splintered into a few different pieces. Alex jumped heart racing. "You had bruises, big bruises and bites and…" he swallowed. "and you were _bleeding_."

God he looked guilty.

"It wasn't the way it was supposed to be, it wasn't supposed to be like mine. I was going to do it differently."

"Yours?"

"The Scorpia operative who recruited me in Moscow, I let him seduce me to try and get out and… Well I killed him later on."

"That's in no way the same situation." Now he was shouting. "I didn't _let_ you seduce me I wanted you to, why did you tell me to leave in that penthouse?"

"Because I thought was I was doing was wrong!" he shouted back. "but I love you." He shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched. "And then I fucked it all up."

"If the situation at the stadium hadn't happened would I have seen you again?" Alex asked.

"Yes, I was going to take you to Florence and just… make you fall in love with me."

Alex felt like his heart had stopped. "Why didn't you just tell me all this three fucking weeks ago!"

Yassen didn't meet his eye. "I'm sorry."

"I thought you weren't coming back." He found himself turning away from him trying to hide the fact that his eyes were beginning to water, he looked up at the ceiling blinking furiously. "I couldn't understand why…"

Yassen's hand rubbed between his shoulder blades almost as if he didn't know if he was allowed to touch him anywhere else. Alex took a deep breath, let it out and turned wrapping and arm around his neck and kissing him hard. He bit his lip squeezing him with his other arm and pressed himself to him as much as possible trying to transfer some of the pain, to express it.

The assassin was holding him up, lifting him from the ground and kissing him back with a desperation difficult to comprehend. It was like he'd expected to never be able to kiss him again. They began to move hands clenching in each other's hair and sliding under clothing. Stumbling and holding onto each other as they staggered blindly upstairs and found the mattress on the floor underneath the window. Alex on top, Yassen uncaring wrenching at the younger's clothes desperation in his actions that Alex had never seen. He wanted him, actually wanted him.

"Something, you have to have something." Alex gasped, shirt open tie hanging loose.

Yassen moaned wrenching a bottle from his pocket and pressing it into his hand, giving him responsibility. He let him top if he wanted, he'd let him do whatever he liked. Alex kicked off his trousers and pulled down the assassin's straddling him and taking his hand pouring the liquid over his fingers and leaning down to kiss him.

Alex held Yassen's wrist as he fingered him, stretch and burn conveyed in the bite of his nails and just on the edge of being enough – too impatient to wait – he pulled on his wrist but Yassen stopped him.

"Not this time."

Alex nodded and sat up biting his lip, hand planted firmly on Yassen's sternum as he tried to relax, twitching whenever he touched his prostate. Finally he withdrew his fingers, gripping his hips hard as he slicked him with the remainder of the bottle and settled with the head of his cock against his entrance. Then slowly he lowered his weight till he slid inside him.

"Uh."

Yassen took his cock in his hand and stroked him once, he closed his eyes head tipping back and lowered himself a little more feeling himself tighten, relax and tighten again. Yassen mumbled something in Russian and then his name, he was shaking underneath him. Then he took hold of his hips and lifted him a little so he slid out to the head and then guided him downwards to where he'd been before and then a little deeper. He shuddered and Alex realised he must be testing his self-control to its limits, he did it again and concentrated on relaxing as he went down pushing Yassen deeper and then settling with him fully inside.

Yassen smiled running his hand up his chest before holding him still and rolling his hips against him. Alex gasped at how deep he felt it, his skin tingled over his shoulders and up the back of his neck and he was hot, on fire.

Outside it was getting dark and it was a dim twilight in the room, car headlights moved across the ceiling and passed over Alex's face, yellow, white, too bright for words and finally dim. He began to move, pushing himself upwards on Yassen's chest and then feeling him slide inside again as he lowered himself, stretched around him. His movements started to fall into a rhythm, he was sweating, shirt sticking to him and it felt amazing.

Yassen moved inside him thrusting up when he lifted himself and he cried out moving a little faster, toes curling. He was panting, moaning aware he was saying yassen's name sometimes and hearing him say his own back, rough and sensual from that Russian tongue. Then yassen sat up planting a hand behind him and wrapping the other arm around him, looking up at him as he thrust inside again and again angle so perfect Alex was unable to do anything but make incoherent sounds and hold onto him as he came.

The Russian's hand jumped to the small of his back and his mouth was around his nipple, he was looking up at him shaking. Alex felt his release, the warmth of it inside him and ran his hand up his back holding him deep and kissing him as he quivered, muscles rippling. Then slowly he relaxed and fell backwards with Alex on top of him.

He lay there, Yassen still inside him, and kissed him for a long time. When he finally broke the kiss it was dark outside and he and Yassen were painted in Yellow from the streetlight. Slowly the assassin rolled him over and pulled out.

"Okay?"

Alex nodded. "That was amazing."

"That was how it should have been." He murmured against his lips.

"I know you didn't mean to be so rough with me." He began. "But I did enjoy it."

"I hurt you…"

"It didn't hurt so much at the time, only when I was walking home."

"Jack must know."

Alex shook his head. "I wore a scarf constantly for a week."

"Still…"

"I know, she must suspect something on some level but at the moment she doesn't even know I'm gay."

"How would she react?"

"She'd tell MI6."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she'd think you'd mentally fucked me up. Brain washed me or something."

"Have you considered that she might be right?" Yassen asked.

"Yes, but then I realised that before all of this I wanted you."

"Did you?"

"Yeah, probably some weird attraction to the fact that you're so dangerous."

"Fatal mistake." Yassen said with a smile.

"I know." Alex smiled back and then sighed as his phone began to ring in his school trousers on the floor, Yassen moved off him and he sat up moving to the end of the bed and staring at the screen on his phone.

Serin.

He swallowed and then pressed the hang up button.

"Yassen, there's something I have to tell you."


	36. Whitehall Cont

Alex sat on the edge of the mattress knees drawn up against his chest his shirt sticky around his shoulders, he felt Yassen move on the bed and smiled as he wrapped his arms around him from behind slotting against him. He'd taken his jeans off fully and his skin was warm against outer thighs as he peeled Alex's shirt from his arms and threw it with his tie into the pile of clothing on the floor.

"Well?" Yassen was pressing tiny kisses over his shoulders.

Alex swallowed. ""The doctor I was with at the stadium, I was at his flat a few days ago and I fell asleep on his sofa."

"Right."

"I had a dream about you and when I woke up I… was hard."

Yassen had gone very still behind him.

"It was dark, and so when he… started touching me I imagined it was you. Afterwards I felt a bit sick so I left."

"Did he hurt you?" his voice was blank.

"No."

Then he was silent, arms loose around him.

"When was this exactly?"

"Last night."

"When you say he touched you…"

"a hand job."

"Vyacheslav said he saw you last night."

Alex supressed the urge to ask about the name. "it happened before I went home, then I had a shower for a long time and went to bed when I woke up he was in my room."

"What was your nightmare about?"

Alex sighed. "it was really weird."

"Tell me."

"Have you heard of the TV show blind date?"

"No."

Alex felt the urge to laugh at that but didn't. "You have one person on one side of the stage and three on the other and they cant see each other and then the one person has to choose which of the three on the other they'd like to go out with from asking them questions."

"I see."

"So I was on one side and you and Serin were on the other and the me that was in the dream picked Serin."

"What-"

"Wait. I haven't finished." Alex took a deep breath and continued. "And then you walked back stage and out into an Alley and… and you shot yourself."

"Turn around."

Alex turned and yassen guided him onto his lap with his legs wrapped around his waist. "I don't care about what you did with Serin, that's my fault for leaving and you obviously didn't enjoy it much."

Alex shook his head.

"I had a dream about you, well many… but the one I remember most was that I went to where they buried you in Libya and I accepted you were dead and drove away."

Alex ran his hand through Yassen's hair. "What were you expecting to find when you dug me up?"

"It was logical that you were dead, Vy said before we opened the coffin that I shouldn't expect you to be alive but obviously I hoped."

"Who is he?"

"Vyacheslav?"

"I don't think you were supposed to tell me his name."

"I know, call him by whatever name he gave you. We grew up together."

"In Russia?"

"Yes, I looked after him when he was very small and then when he turned five I got recruited and I had to choose between him and getting out. Then when he was fifteen I came back after finishing my training and I found out that he'd…" Yassen sighed. "Well I never thought he'd forgive me, I still don't think he has."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not something I think I should tell you."

"And now he's freelance intelligence."

"Did MI6 tell you that?"

"Yes, showed me all the passport photos they have. They still don't know his name though."

"Don't tell them."

"Obviously, how old is he?"

"Twenty four, I got him apprenticed to a man I met in Malagasto and now he runs his own web of agents for anyone who'll pay him."

"Why did he rescue Serin?"

"I asked him to, I was doing another job at the time."

Alex nodded and shifted slightly as he felt liquid running down the back of his leg.

"What is it?" Yassen asked.

"Nothing… I'm just-" he winced. "Leaking."

"Oh."

"Is the water on here?"

"Yes."

"Shower?"

Yassen nodded. "In a minute."

"You don't… you know… have anything do you?"

"Would I not use a condom if I did?" Yassen asked.

"I don't know, I suppose not." Alex was blushing, avoiding his eyes.

He stayed motionless for a moment but then kissed the top of his head pulling him close. "You don't trust me anymore."

Alex didn't know what to say so he simply rested his forehead against his chest.

"How long can you stay?"

"Not for much longer I was supposed to be home a while ago."

Yassen sighed. "A shower then…"

Sitting in maths the next day Alex was smiling as he looked out the window and saw a strange man on the roof of a nearby building. Standing on a rooftop twenty minutes later watching a helicopter sink into the Thames he wished he had some way of contacting Yassen, something wasn't right…


	37. Underpass 28, Brixton

A/N if you haven't read scorpia rising this might not make so much sense. Alex survives an assassination by a sniper and uses a fire extinguisher to take down their helicopter by firing it from a rooftop into the blades using an antenna. Blunt and Jones come to debrief him in Ian's house on his request.

* * *

><p>He'd wanted to meet them in his own home. He wanted a bit of control. But now, with them sitting on his couch he wished he'd gone into the bank, he felt a little more vulnerable with his baby pictures on the wall.<p>

As for Egypt... Another mission to get him out of harms way, an easy one... But then they all had been easy. _you wont be in any danger..._

After Blunt and Jones had left Alex sat on the couch for a long time with Jack saying nothing then he got up purposefully before sitting down again.

"Fuck."

"What is it Alex?"

"Just… I don't know what to do, it all seems so… convenient that MI6 would have a mission that they want me doing just as another assassin tries to take me out. And how the fuck did he miss?"

"I don't know Alex."

The phone rang and Jack went and answered it.

"hello? Yes, oh he's right here. Alex, it's the hospital about Tom."

He got up and took he phone. "Hello? This is Mr. Ovarb calling from Brixton general hospital, can you write down my name and the number I am about to give you please because it is I who will be handling the updates for Tom's condition. This is because of the press interest in the circumstances of your friends condition." The guy had a ridiculous Indian accent.

"Okay, what's the number?"

"0787654330."

"A mobile number?"

"Correct, and my name is Mr. Ovarb."

Alex wrote it down. "So how's Tom?"

"He is fine he has already come out of surgery, he would very much like to see you if you could make it over here without alerting the press to where he is being kept, we think that, due to the circumstances the family should have some respite from the story chasers at this time."

"Yeah, I'll come over which room is he in?"

"Lemur ward, room 516."

_Lemur!_ Alex looked at the name he'd written down, ovarb – Bravo.

"Okay, I'll be right over. Which wing is Lemur ward in?"

"How about I meet you at the entrance to wing two, its one street over from the hospital proper."

"That sounds good, I'll ring you if I cant find it."

"Okay, I'll see you when you get here."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Alex put the phone down.

"What did they say?" Jack asked and Alex just stared at her and pulled out his phone and turning on the bug finder app.

"They want to keep the press from harrying Toms family for details." Alex scanned the room and swallowed. There were bugs everywhere, he'd checked about three weeks ago when he'd first got the phone and found none. "They asked if I wanted to go to the hospital, do you think you could drive me there?"

She nodded. "Okay, do you want to go now?"

He nodded and she grabbed her keys. As soon as they were in the car he checked it as well but found none.

"Jack we're not going to the hospital, that was someone else on the phone. The house is bugged."

"What do you mean."

"I haven't got time, stop the car, I need you to drive to the hospital anyway and park in the underground car park for a while until I ring you. No, they might have bugged your phone too. Wait in the underground car park for an hour and then drive back, I'll meet you at the end of this street."

"Why? What's going on? Who was that on the phone?"

"It was Yassen,"

"He sounded Indian."

"I know, just listen to me; I need to see him."

"Why?"

"Because the house is bugged, so are the phones, something's going on."

"Does he know something?"

"I think so."

"How did you know it was him on the phone?"

"A code word."

She looked uncertain rubbing her thumbs over the leather of the steering wheel. "How do you know you can trust him?"

"I don't… but if there's something going on I want to know it. I don't think I can trust MI6 anymore."

Slowly she nodded. "Okay, so I drive to the hospital and stay there for an hour."

"Yes."

"Is Tom actually there?"

"I don't know."

"I'll find out. Be careful Alex..."

"I will. Thank you," Alex got out the car and ran down smith street, she drove away. There were a few parked cars but as he made his way down to about opposite to where his house was there was a silver Nissan with it's engine running.

Yassen got out the front passenger seat and he was surprised at just how relieved he was to see him, he wrapped his arms around him, face in his jumper and felt himself relax as he held him.

"Yassen are you an idiot? Get in the fucking car." French accent, Vyacheslav was driving.

He said something Russian over his shoulder and closed the passenger door opening the back one. Alex jumped in and he got in beside him looping an arm around his shoulders and holding him against him. Alex looked up at him and pulled him down for a kiss with his head cushioned by his bicep. He felt him smile against his lips and pulled him close with his other hand on his ribs.

"You're alright?" he asked softly.

"Fine, just angry. Why's the house bugged?"

"Scorpia." Vyacheslav said.

"Was it their assassin?"

"Probably."

"They heard my conversation with Bunt and jones then."

"Yes. How long do you have?"

"an hour and a half."

"How?"

"I told her that I had to see you, she's going to drive to the hospital and wait for an hour before coming back. What do you know?"

"Something big is happening with Scorpia and, obviously, I'm not involved. Which would suggest that they know about us and that it is to do with you."

Alex blinked. "When you say _know about us_?"

"I don't know how far it goes, but they know they can't trust me concerning you anymore."

"So you don't think I should go?"

"Go?"

"MI6 want to send me on a mission in Egypt to get me out of the line of fire."

"Why didn't they want to do that before with Werber?"

"Precisely, I thought it was far too convenient that they have something lined up for me."

"You think it was MI6?" Vyacheslav asked from the front as they stopped in a dark street.

"I don't know."

It took them twenty minutes to get to wherever Vyacheslav was taking them. Somewhere in Brixton. Alex walked with Yassen behind Vyacheslav up the street and into an alley that twisted left and right and finally went underneath a road. Here he opened up and door that led into maintenance tunnels and let the two of them in before leading them down dimly lit cabled walkways deep into the road and then into a locked side room.

There were two chairs and a small table placed underneath a dangling light bulb, the walls were covered in posters of naked or semi-naked women. Yassen leant against the table while Alex and Vyacheslav took the chairs. It was cold and damp in here and Alex had misjudged what he'd worn, his leg was beginning to ache.

"If its MI6 then why is scorpia involved?"

"Maybe the mission is against scorpia." Alex supplied. "Maybe they're playing MI6."

"For what?"

"I don't know, I'm not that important in the grand scheme of things… It can't just be about revenge."

"It must be up at the top level, board level only." Vyacheslav said

"Board level?" Alex asked.

"There's been a few major reshuffles in the last few weeks, I knew something big was happening but I've been… preoccupied." Yassen was looking at him. "I didn't realise at the time that they hadn't called me up."

"All the signs point to it being about you." Vyacheslav said dropping his eyes over his body and saying bitterly. "Though I can't imagine what they'd want."

Alex narrowed his eyes but said nothing, he couldn't quite work out what the man was getting at, if he was trying to insult him or not.

"You shouldn't go to Egypt," Yassen said looking at Vyacheslav who met his gaze for a moment before turning away. "Whatever it is it sounds like you'll be playing into their hands."

"How do I get out of it? They're supposed to be trying to protect me how can I say no I'd rather be in danger."

The two Russians were silent for a long time but then Vyacheslav spoke. "If it is what you think, that MI6 are being played, then the violence will escalate till you have no choice but to go."

"So I have to go."

"What's the assignment?" Yassen asked.

"Go to an international school and see what I can find out."

"Is that it?"

"Yeah, they said the security advisor might be in on something. That scorpia wants one of the pupils."

"Blunt's getting old, this whole thing is just like the big set up they did in Moscow ten years ago except they were on the other side of the coin." Vyacheslav sighed.

"What do you mean?" Alex asked.

"You set up a misson only one agent, the agent you want, can do. You make it appear easy and then once their sent in you do what you want with them, interrogate them… kill them… expose them."

"MI6 wanted information from the guy the kremlin sent in… what do Scorpia want from him? He doesn't know anything."

"Revenge?" Alex said. "I lost them a lot of money."

"It's not really their style… and it's too high powered, revenge is usually fairly low key."

"Like rothman." Alex said rubbing his chest.

"Yes."

Yassen sighed. "Have you got anything on the two men in the helicopter?"

"I put out some feelers, if they're still alive then I should be able to find out who they are and if they're MI6 but we're still missing Scorpia's motivation."

"I suppose I'll only find out when I've got there."

Both men were silent for a moment and then Yassen's phone began ringing.

"I'll be back in a second." He said answering it and going outside.

Alex and Vyacheslav sat in silence listening to Yassen speaking outside in Spanish then Alex swallowed and spoke.

"What did you say to him?" He must have said something...

"I told him to come back and end it."

Alex swallowed again. "Because I'm fifteen?"

"No." His eyes were narrowed. "You can forget what he told you, he left because you made him realise how much he loves you. And how much you don't love him back."

There was a challenge in the man's eyes, he was almost daring him to rebuke him, to say that he did love him but Alex was silent.

"Why are you with him?" the Russian asked. "Give me an answer."

"I don't have one."

"Why?"

"Because I try not to think about it too much, everyone I ever love dies."

Was that it? Was that the reason? Or was it that he felt like every time he kissed yassen he was betraying his uncle, betraying his country and he was scared that it was no longer enough to stop him.

"Or maybe I'm just waiting for him to call me John by accident." He said softly.

Vyacheslav's eyes widened and Alex wished he hadn't said it, he stared at the floor and heard Yassen wrap up the conversation and hang up.

He spoke to Vyacheslav. "When's your meeting?"

"Ten minutes in here, take the car."

"I'll see you in Prague."

He nodded and Alex got up stiffly and followed Yassen out.

"What did you talk about?"

"He hates me."

"Your father and him never got on."

"Why?"

"It's complicated. He just doesn't know you, once he does he'll change his mind."

"Seems doubtful. We have to start heading back, it'll look suspicious if Jack stops…"

"Okay."

Alex got in the car massaging his leg with the heal of his hand through his jeans.

"Does your leg hurt?"

"Yeah, does it when it gets cold."

Yassen started the engine pulling away, he headed for the main road switching to third gear and reaching over putting his hand where Alex's had been on his leg and rubbing it. The spy sighed and let his head fall backwards onto the headrest running his fingers up Yassen's forearm and remembering the first time he'd done this.

"You know you're a manipulative bastard…"

"Why do you say that?"

"I was just thinking about the first time you decided to give me a leg massage and then you aimed a gun at me."

"And after that I kissed you…"

"Mm, no you gave me a present so good my British need to be polite didn't allow me to push you away."

"So what about all the other kisses?"

Alex grinned. "I realised I liked them."

He looked at Yassen's hand, the ring on this third finger and the small scars, one that ran over two fingers and a line on the back of his palm. He'd killed people with this hand, defended himself with it also and now he was providing relief with it. An instrument that worked both ways.

_He realised how much he loves you…_ Vyacheslav had told him to come back and end it, had he been intending to? He couldn't ask… moreover he didn't want to, their relationship was balanced on a tripwire, any more baggage and it would explode and any turbulence and they'd fall off.

Why _am_ I with him? Is it because it's exciting and he knows where to put his fingers? Is it simply because I'm not _allowed_ to be with him?

Yassen coasted up to a set of red traffic lights near where he lived and looked over to Alex who swallowed.

"I'm sorry."

"About what?"

_Not loving you?_ "About the set up, it was stupid and I shouldn't have done it."

The assassin took his hand back to change gear into first and then second, silently replacing his hand on Alex's leg fingers rubbing at the material of his jeans. Alex laid his hand over the top and squeezed it hard.

"It scared me that you still had some of your innocence intact." Yassen said the words slowly, perfectly, it was almost rehearsed. "I thought all that… all _that_ was because I was male. Or perhaps I was lying to myself. Then I was angry that you took the risk, mostly because you don't seem to believe me when I tell you…"

"That you love me?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry." Alex couldn't look at him. "I always thought, in the back of my mind…" he trailed off unable to continue the sentence.

"What?"

Alex ran his other hand through his hair. "I always thought this was because of my father, that once you realised I wasn't him that'd be it. But even then that didn't make sense, because he betrayed you… You thought he was dead."

"You never asked."

"I didn't want to hear the wrong answer."

Yassen pulled up one street over from where he'd dropped Alex off, where they'd see Jack pull up in her mini, and turned off the engine.

"It's true you look a lot like your father Alex but not to me. You have no idea how different you are. The way I loved him was different, I was young and there were too many lies and I was so bitter from being in Russia I wanted to kill everything. No one had ever done anything good for me until he laid down next to me in the shooting range in the middle of the night and taught me how to shoot, how to forget my anger so I could see the target properly. I was desperate." He shook his head. "With you it is bigger."

Jack's car pulled up and Alex sighed. "When can I see you again?"

"I will find you in Egypt."

He nodded and released Yassen's hand getting out of the car, just as he was about to round the bend Yassen called him back and he stopped watching him approach and allowing himself to be pressed into the wall behind him, firmly in the shadows. For a moment the assassin just stared at him, looking almost fearfully in his eyes, he looked reckless as he cupped the side of his face.

"Come with me?"

Alex stared back shocked.

"Get back in the car, we can disappear, we can go anywhere."

For some reason his eyes were filling with tears as he glanced towards Jack's car heart rising in his throat.

"You can visit her, like I visit you, and she'll be safe, she can go back to her family in America."

Alex curled his fingers in Yassen's jacket. Jack could go and see her sick father. He'd never go on another mission, never gain another scar, he could just disappear and stop watching people die all he had to do was get back in the car.

But toppling on the edge of it he found he didn't have the courage to jump into that unknown abyss. The whole world would be looking for them, they'd make enemies on both sides.

"I can't Yassen."

Yassen swallowed.

"I want to but I can't."

The assassin ran his fingers through Alex's hair and kissed him and the spy tried to kiss him back as ferociously, tried to tell him that he cared. He _did_ care dammit.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

"I love you."


	38. Prague pt 1

Prague.

Yassen stood at a small window in the cold fading blue of the day. Through the spider's web of ice that had crystallised on the other side an old cemetery was visible, a jumble of broken mossy stones so dense that no path was visible, no order. Jewish graves, bodies one on top of each other, all piled in together in one concentrated patch of death.

Mist had started to creep towards this disused house an hour ago, at first only a slight haze and then thick tendrils that curled around the dark gothic buildings. Soon only the graveyard would be visible with its mess of stones sticking from the mist, cracked edifices lit by sickly orange streetlights.

For now though, the ground - twisted from so much digging - was still visible in the last light. It was these cold ends of days that reminded him of Russia; the weak light, the numb cold that sunk slowly into the bone. The wait in Moscow for the deathly cold of night to descend so that he could work, he could feel that cold in his soul still, it was what made him good. Then he'd lost it.

That night in the shooting range with John, that night when he'd smiled at him. He'd thought he was an idiot, who _the fuck_ smiled? And what the fuck did they smile about? What was there to smile about? Everyone and everything dead apart from Vy, and he'd betrayed him, left him in the cold dark underworld while he swanned about eating and running. Fucking _eating_! Whenever he felt he needed to, and a bed and room of his own. The rage, it melted all his composure. He was angry because he'd traded that last piece of his humanity for this and it was even better than he'd thought it would be. He'd left the kid who'd curled up against his side for a year in the coldest part of the night for this and some part of him was trying to rationalise it. Trying to say it was worth it.

And John just smiled.

"Fuck off."

"I will when you hit the target."

"I can hit the target, fuck off."

"Go on then."

Yassen had brought the scope to his eye and really concentrated, trying to get rid of the cocky British shit but even worse than usual all he could think about was his hatred. He pulled the trigger too hard and the aim went awry. He missed altogether.

"Target's the orange thing."

"I know!" Yassen pushed the gun away. "Go away."

"I told you, not until you hit the target."

"Or perhaps I'll shoot you instead."

"Well you could, I suppose. If you didn't miss." And then he smiled again, amusement painted in the curve.

Yassen sat up and then got up and brushed himself off. "Leave me alone."

"If you can't shoot by tomorrow they're going to kick you out. They gave me one night to try and straighten you out."

He froze. "Who are you?"

"Hunter."

They'd been talking about him for weeks, the assassin that never failed, a legend in Malagasto.

"Get back down here."

"I can shoot."

"I know you can, I saw you kill Serov in Moscow."

Yassen had stood there staring at him. It was the job that got him here in the first place.

"Why were you there?"

"Recruits have to be assessed by two people. Golgstein gave his recommendation and I gave mine."

Yassen swallowed at the name, it disgusted him.

"So why can't you hit the target?"

"I can."

"Why can't you hit the target?" And that smile was back.

"I can fucking hit the fucking target!"

He had been barely able stop himself hitting the man, lying there with that smirk he wanted to beat him senseless.

"That's why." The man turned onto his back and clasped his hands behind his head. "What are you so angry about?"

Yassen had stayed silent.

"You don't have to tell me but you need to calm down if you're going to live through the next two days. Now get down here and hit the target."

Yassen knelt and lowered himself to the mat taking the gun back up and pulling it into his shoulder lining up his sights with the orange target.

"Relax."

"I'm trying."

"Come on Yassen."

He'd known his name. Since he'd come to Italy everyone had called him Cossack, he hadn't even had a conversation with anyone. He'd met John's brown eyes over the rifle and then looked down the scope and tried to push it all away, regain that cold. The empty hunger and the frozen fingers, shoulders hunched against the wind and Vy's grim determination when he'd first met him to live just one more day. He hit the very centre of the target.

"That's why I recommended you."

He'd passed the test the next day, still angry, but it was now a cold rage, John had smiled at him but he hadn't smiled back. He was like that always, it had made some people in the class underestimate him until he'd killed one of them for answering back, shot him in the chest. He'd annoyed Yassen, turning up when he was in the shooting range and teasing him until he was so exasperated his hands were shaking. He'd thought him mad, a lunatic in fact.

One evening when the rest of the compound was asleep and he was lying awake Yassen gave up the struggle to keep his eyes closed and dressed heading for the range. At least Hunter wouldn't be there; he could properly concentrate.

Lying down Yassen started shooting, trying to tap that inner cold and succeeding somewhat.

"Still not shooting as well as you did in Russia."

Yassen sighed, how long had he been standing there?

"You didn't think that you'd avoid me just by shooting in the small hours of the morning…"

"Why do you do this?" Yassen asked as he lay down beside him.

"Amusement." He began talking, just talking. He was only doing it to annoy him, and after a while he just stopped listening letting the English wash over him. Then the man changed tactics and, in nearly perfect Russian said:

"I got a smile out of Zulu today."

Yassen raised his head and looked at him before shaking his head. It was just typical that he'd be able to speak Russian, he couldn't ignore him so easily now. He put his eye back to the scope and tried regardless.

"Why do you never smile back Yassen?" he'd always used his name when they were alone.

"I don't want to smile."

"Why?"

"I've got nothing to smile about." He let another round go.

"Do you want to be here?"

"Yes."

"Then why not enjoy it?"

"I've got no right to."

"Why?"

He chose not to answer but missed his next shot, and sighed getting up.

"Where are you going?"

"Bed. I'm tired."

"Leave me the rifle."

Yassen handed him it and watched as he turned over onto his front and pulled his knee up to keep his breathing from affecting his aim too much. He shot perfectly through the rest of the magazine Yassen had left him and got up.

"Still got it."

"What kind of score was that?"

"All in a ten pence piece." He grinned.

"How do you do that?"

"I relax. And I don't curl up as much as you do." He pulled out the empty magazine. "Are you still tired or do you want a lesson?"

"Why would you do that?"

"I like you."

And he'd laughed. Bitterly. John had stared at him cocking his head to the side.

"Tell me, what is it you find so blackly amusing about that?"

Yassen took the rifle from him. "You don't like me, you just want something."

"True, but I only want it because I like you."

"What do you want then?"

"You'll just have to wait and see."

Yassen laid down with a mutter. "Fucking schizophrenic." He winced as two magazines hit him in the back.

"I heard that."

Yassen re-loaded the gun and settled into firing position eyes going wide as Hunter took hold of his right leg and lifted it into a different position. As he went to fire he instinctively moved it.

"No." he pinned it in place hands pressing down on the back of his knee. "Keep it there."

"It doesn't feel right."

"That's because you were taught wrong."

"I wasn't taught."

"Precisely."

It was the first time someone had touched him since he'd left Russia. It felt strange. He found in this position his shoulder wasn't so crunched up and his aim was steadier. He felt less stable though.

"Take a shot."

He hit the very centre of the target.

"Good?"

"Yes." Yassen felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards.

"You're smiling."

It dropped from his lips.

"Zulu _and_ You… What a day." He sighed. "Now you've gone all tense again."

They'd seen each other nearly every night after that, Yassen had become slowly easier with him, more accepting of his strange humour and his smiles. Now that he looked back on it he wondered if John had picked him out as early as Russia, seen some sort of humanity in him that he'd risked everything to try and cultivate. Even if it was just to alleviate his own loneliness.

John _had_ been lonely, lonely and horrified with himself. He'd manipulated Yassen into his bed at first for a distraction, some way of forgetting that he was a lie and that a wife waited for him back in England. Then, once he'd told him the truth he'd become some sort of escape where he could be a good man in the midst of his murder and lies. Perhaps he'd been just as desperate.

At the beginning though he kept his distance, which is to say that he didn't try and seduce him till he'd almost finished his training two years later. He'd left for a job for three weeks, Yassen remembered grudgingly missing his presence at the shooting range, and then found himself wondering if John would come back at all and how much he actually looked forward to seeing him. He was the only one who said anything nice to him and, as much as it pained him to admit it, whatever it was between them had started to feel dangerously like friendship.

He'd returned to find him, as always, lying on the fake grass lining up with the orange targets.

"So you've forgotten everything I've tried to teach you."

"Your back." He'd sat up and almost smiled. John had looked different, a bit harder, from what he'd told him later he could guess that he'd been more than mildly disgusted at what he'd had to do. Perhaps that was what provoked what followed. "How was it?"

"Messy, did you miss me?"

Yassen chose not to answer, John had laughed.

He knelt down and then laid down, on his left this time, behind him. He'd taken up his stance and John had tutted leaning over him and adjusting the angle of his hips with one hand and the placement of his knee with the other. Holding him still he'd been knelt against him, front of his thighs and his hips against his side and lower back. The contact felt strange, almost… good. He tried to ignore it taking a shot and then another.

"Okay?" John had asked

"Fine."

His thumb on his right hand had moved, stroking against his skin through his trousers, and Yassen felt a little rush of adrenaline. Had he done it on purpose? If so why? His heart sped up, everywhere John was pressed to him felt hot, hypersensitive. He withdrew his hands leaving him strangely cold and then lay down. Yassen relaxed a bit rolling onto his side to roll his shoulder in it's joint. Only John was lying directly behind him and he bumped into him, back to his muscular chest and found that suddenly his hand was back on his hip and they were pressed together entirely.

"You've lost your position now, here."

His hand shifted to his knee and held it to his own which he moved to the right position. Then it ran up his thigh to his hip again, exciting every nerve in his leg. He lay there with John breathing into his hair for a long time, utterly clueless as to what he should do. Was he coming onto him? Yes. What should he do about that? His thumb moved again, stroking his hip this time and Yassen swallowed thickly, perhaps if he didn't respond then he might move off. Heart racing and with shaky fingers let off a shot.

It only just hit the target.

"Relax." He said from behind him, murmuring the word into the back of his neck sending another wave of goosebumps down his back. "I can feel that you're too tense."

He moved ever so slightly against him, shifting closer, and his hips bumped against his bum and pressed to it. Then his fingers slowly graced beneath his shirt, skipping over his abdomen.

"Take another shot."

He was almost shaking, he could feel his muscles contracting and his skin tingling underneath his fingertips. Wide eyed he took another shot and then gasped as he traced his bottom rib and pressed his lips to the back of his neck. He leant his face against the rifle, abandoning the scope and felt his breathing stutter as John slid his fingers down slowly to the hollow of his hip and then further, beneath the waistband of his trousers.

Very clearly he remembered Golgstein telling him to turn over, telling him to be louder, telling him to look at him. Suddenly he was terrified, and angry because he'd just come to the realisation he liked the man who was currently trying to grope him. Should he just let him do it? Was it like everything else in Malagasto? A little pleasure mixed with a little pain, a catch in every good fortune? Perhaps he'd force him if he tried to stop him anyway.

As John's fingers had burrowed deeper into his underwear he felt a little disgusted and closed his eyes burying his face in his arms and letting the gun fall. Then he just stopped. John's hand had to be less than a centimetre from his erection but he'd just stopped.

"You don't want this…" he said. Confusion and some disappointment in his voice.

Yassen stayed curled up, face hidden, he didn't move even when John pulled his hand from his trousers and rolled onto his back behind him with a huff.

"A whole fucking year…" he muttered, not angry. More in a mocking tone as if he found that fact vaguely amusing as well as frustrating. Yassen lay there frozen. "Why didn't you fight me?"

"You'd win."

"You think I'd rape you?"

"I don't know."

"So you'd have just let me."

"It's payment."

John was silent for a long time.

"You ever done that before? Let someone…"

Yassen said nothing, he probably already knew…

"I asked you a question."

"I did it for my life… If I didn't leave Russia the mob would have killed me."

"Golgstein's a sick fuck."

"Yes."

And they'd moved on. Admittedly with a little more awkwardness than before. Yassen remembered having a few dreams from which he'd wake uncomfortably hard or sticky, he blamed it on stress and lack of sleep. Then he'd taken him to the jungle for his final assignment and everything changed.


	39. Prague Pt 2

As he'd been sitting there with the spider on his neck Yassen had been preparing for death. Hunter would choose the mark over him… Then the burning line of fire across his throat and he couldn't move for a second certain that the spider had bitten him but then John had taken his head in his hands.

"Okay?"

He ran his finger over the line with a wince. "You shot it."

"Shot the mark too." A quick grin, slightly lopsided brown eyes flashing. He was close, incredibly so, eyes flicking between his own and his lips. Then he'd lent in and kissed him, lips firm and moist against his own. He put his hands on his chest to push him away but hesitated and found himself clenching the material of his shirt in his fingers instead pulling him closer.

He'd saved his life.

At a burst of sub-machine gun fire John had broken the kiss. "Come on, we've got to go."

They'd run through the jungle for hours, Yassen staring at the back of Johns head for all of it. Nervous in anticipation of the moment when they stopped and he'd have to face him. He didn't know what he wanted, if no one had shot at them, if he kissed him again, where would it lead?

The two of them were drenched in sweat from the humidity and heat by the time they stopped in a clearing next to a river where they'd be extracted by boat come morning.

"You okay?" John asked, panting. Yassen had nodded

The Englishman dropped his rifle and his bag and took his boots off before jumping in the river and then dragging himself fully clothed back up the bank and flopping onto his back. Yassen stood there and stared at him.

"It helps." He said.

"That river has crocodiles in it."

"You're joking."

Yassen shook his head and looked up at the sky where storm clouds had been gathering all afternoon. Then he looked down at John and pulled his shirt off leaving himself in a vest and sat down next to him.

"How long till it rains?" He asked.

"It was forecast for three, so any minute." John sat up and looked at his neck. "You shouldn't just leave that, it'll get infected.

"Yeah."

John got out his first aid kit and knelt in front of him spraying the graze from the bullet with antiseptic, Yassen winced but endured it.

"Why'd you take the risk?" he asked while he cleaned it.

"Because on balance it was worth it." John finished cleaning it and set the antiseptic aside staring at him, he couldn't meet his eye. "Are you straight?"

He certainly hadn't thought he'd come out with it like that…

"Cause if you are I'll leave it."

Why did the man have to be so direct about it? He didn't know… Before Golgstein he'd been too worried about getting his next meal than finding a girl who wanted to have sex with him.

"Yassen?"

"I don't know alright." He snapped. "How the fuck am I supposed to know?"

Then he'd frowned, because he should know. Before… him he would have said he was straight but he couldn't recall ever feeling anything particularly intense for any of the women he'd been in contact with. Though granted they'd all been starving street children or rail thin prostitutes. What he really needed was something else to base his answer on.

Taking a deep breath he pushed that argument away and shrugged. Hunter had just saved his life, putting his own at risk. He owed him.

"Do you think you can make me enjoy it?"

John had just grinned and kissed him.

It was far more pleasurable than he thought it would be, he palmed him though his combat trousers till he was hard and then kissed his way down his chest and took his erection in his hand. He'd barely been able to think.

"Please."

That grin again as he took it in his mouth and Yassen let a whole stream of Russian flow from his mouth into the air. John had chuckled.

"Enjoying it yet?"

They'd had sex a few days later in a hotel room in Zurich. Yassen sitting naked in his lap squeezing John's bicep as he pushed two fingers inside him and slowly moved them in and out. Impatient Yassen pulled on his hand.

"I can deal with it." He breathed.

John flipped him onto his back and pushed his fingers back inside him rubbing against his prostate relentlessly. Helpless Yassen had stared up at him and moaned.

"Stop… I'll… Uh… Come."

"So come, come all over me."

He was confused, squirming, taking himself in his hand and closing his eyes. He came face buried in Johns shoulder and then collapsed panting.

"Why… Why did you do that?"

"Because it's not about dealing with it."

Yassen nodded, almost unable to meet his eyes. "Sorry." He glanced down to where he was still hard. "What about you?"

"Getting you aroused really hasn't been a problem so far." John moved his fingers slightly and Yassen shivered at the twitch of a response. "See?"

"You're going to… Aren't you?"

Yassen hissed as John pushed a third finger inside him and curled all three. "Do you want me to?"

"Y-yes… Ah… Okay."

He'd moved slowly in long smooth thrusts, muttering in incomprehensible English. Yassen clung to him adding his own Russian equivalent till they were both spent, still and quiet.

John had fallen asleep quickly, an arm thrown over him. He'd lay with his eyes closed waiting for sleep that never came and then opened them and stared at the wall, eventually he gave up and disentangled himself sitting on the end of the bed and staring out the window looking out over Zurich.

When Golgstein had taken him it had hurt, he'd lain there and whispered to himself that the man couldn't last forever, that eventually he'd come. He'd kept on moving him around, prolonging it, thrusting inside him at different angles and grunting guttural German in his ear. Occasionally he murdered some Russian: _you like that_… _right there Ja?_

John had been different certainly, even if it was just because he'd stuck to one position. The foreplay as well… The fact he'd let him sit in his lap like that instead of being on top all the time had been nice, it had taken almost an entire hour for the two of them to get their clothes off. John had been happy just exploring the flesh available to him with a kind of curiosity that made him feel just a bit flattered. Only when he felt like taking the next thing off did he, John just kept pace. Only when he glanced down at the two of them, both hard within their underwear did he feel anxious. Till then he'd always been the one naked or semi-naked, the only time he'd seen John come had been when they'd been tangling on the fake grass of the firing range at malagasto, desperately rubbing against each other till John had shuddered against him and gone still for a moment before finishing him off with his hand pushed inside his underwear.

At that moment, sitting in his lap, he'd only been able to think about how he was going to get him to come quickly so it would hurt for the least amount of time. He couldn't meet his eyes and he couldn't look at his cock, his heart in his throat he'd stared at his sternum for a moment aching for more wishing he'd take control.

"Yassen…" He'd finally looked up and John had cupped the side of his face. "Give me your hand."

He held it out and he'd taken it in his own looking straight into his eyes and placing it on his hard shaft, he just rested it there.

"Trust me."

It was a bit like letting go, he figured he had nothing to lose… If he trusted him the worst he could probably do was kill him and at this point he didn't feel like he had a lot to live for anyway. He had still been nervous, till John had managed to distract him enough that he didn't care, but in the end he wanted it.

He felt the man move before he heard him, the plane of the bed shifted.

"Still can't sleep?" he asked.

"There's something I need to do." He said.

He'd knelt behind him and kissed the back of his neck running his hands over his shoulders.

"Hmm?"

"I need to go to Moscow."

"I would give that place a wide berth, at least till the mob forget what you look like." He murmered into his hair.

"I cant."

John rested is chin on his shoulder. "Does this have anything to do with Golgstein?"

Yassen looked at him. "He's in Moscow?"

"He lives there, what do you need to do?"

"I… need to fix something." Yassen chewed his cheek for a moment. "I left someone behind, I need to find him."

"Were you… Involved?"

"He's seven. No, nine."

"Oh. Do you think he's alive?"

Yassen swallowed.

"This kid… Is he important to you?"

Yassen nodded.

"Then I'll help you find him."

Moscow was freezing after the jungle and the venetian summer. Yassen had fidgeted on the plane and then emerged into the whiteness of the first snow he'd seen in two years and the air was bitter.

They took a hotel in a dive in the eastern district, near the basement of the power-plant Yassen had broken into on his sixteenth birthday almost dying of hypothermia. It was the first place he checked but the building had been renovated into a tower of grubby flats and the basement was empty. Next he tried the local street kids, none remembered him; the ones he might have known were probably all dead. Bribed with money the last one he spoke to said Vyacheslav was probably dead too but if he'd got off the streets he could be working for Sukachevsky, a drug runner, or in a house off September square.

"When he says a house…" John asked.

"It's a brothel." Yassen said.

When he'd gone into the damp house he'd wrinkled his nose as the smell of sex and opium and hoped to god that he didn't find him there. In every room he went into there were children of below puberty servicing clients, some high some not. All of them on the verge of malnourishment but while some of them looked familiar none were Vy. He emerged and went looking for Sukachevsky.

"You killed Serov."

"I did."

The man smiled at him, all teeth, and got a bottle of Vodka out tapping his neck with two fingers. _Vodka thirst_.

"I'm Serov's successor, you did me a favour."

Yassen threw back his shot with the man and sucked air through his sleeve to prolong the burn over his tongue and in the back of his throat.

"How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a kid, about nine, dark hair, dark eyes."

"People always said you and he were close."

If Sukachevsky knew then everyone important would, anyone who wanted to get revenge on him. "You've seen him?"

"He worked for me for a year, useful kid… smart… very good English. Did you teach him?"

Yassen nodded.

"Then this German guy from Scorpia, Golgstein, demanded him. Couldn't really do much… I don't mess with Scorpia."

"Is he still with him?"

"I haven't seen him since… I suppose so."

Yassen was up and out of the room without another word. Sukachevsky shouted after him.

"Kill the fucker, I hate Germans!"

Finding Golgstein was easy, John just called up some people in Scorpia saying he needed to meet him about a job. Then he had knocked at the front door while Yassen broke in at the back. He'd found him in the basement, blinking at him with wide, dark eyes watering from the bright light with bruises around his neck so vivid he could have got fingerprints. He'd taken him out the back door and caught a taxi, Vy shivering and so pale in the weak sun that his skin seemed almost translucent.

He was also silent.

When they reached the hotel room Yassen sat him down in the armchair in the corner and perched on the coffee table in front of him. He was still shivering so he took his coat off and pulled it around his shoulders.

"Did he…" Yassen couldn't finish the sentence. "Are you hungry?"

He nodded and pulled the coat around himself burying the lower portion of his face in the fur collar till he could only see his eyes. Yassen got up and ordered room service.

Hunter came in a few moments later and pulled off his coat. "Did you find him…" He caught sight of the boy and stopped.

"He was keeping him in the basement." Yassen said.

"For a year."

"Yes."

"Is he…" Hunter glanced at the boy.

"Is he what?"

"I don't know, is he sane?"

Yassen didn't answer. He turned back around and sat down in front of Vyacheslav again who's eyes weren't on him but on Hunter.

"Look at me." His brown eyes slowly moved to his own. "Was it him who gave you the bruises?"

A slow nod.

"Did he just use to hit you?"

A slight shake.

Yassen swallowed, he didn't want to say it. He was a coward but he didn't want to ask.

"Did he…" he stopped, rubbed his eyes and ran both hands through his hair before taking a deep breath. "Did he rape you?"

Vyacheslav didn't move a muscle.

"Did he do it more than once?"

A slow blink.

Yassen got up and headed for the door. "I need to borrow your coat."

Hunter stood silent as he pulled his coat on and checked his side arm.

"_Yassen_?"

He froze and turned at the tiny voice. Vyacheslav stood halfway between him and the chair, engulfed in his coat. He went and knelt in front of him.

"What is it?"

"Who is he?"

"His name's Hunter, he's my partner."

"Don't leave me with him."

"He won't hurt you."

"How do you know?"

Yassen swallowed; he didn't. "He saved my life." He kissed his forehead. "I'll be back in an hour, stay warm."

"Be careful yassen." Hunter said as he closed the door behind him.

When Yassen had left Russia he'd been barely five foot eight, underfed and had relied heavily on ferocity and surprise in a fight. Although Golgsein may have had difficulty in holding him down at that point doubtless it would have been possible. Now he was six foot one and had about the same muscle mass as John, he was well fed and, thanks to malagasto, knew several ways to kill a man in a few seconds.

However, he wouldn't be using any of those.

When Golgstein opened the front door he seemed old and weak, a man past his prime, and stumbled backwards as he shoved him into the house and closed the door behind him. He'd be prepared to admit that he went a bit insane in the twenty minutes that followed.

Looking at Vyacheslav now, lying on his side asleep on a mattress in the undertakers house in prague, Yassen could barely reconcile him with the small boy he'd returned to find curled up on the chair in his coat. John had been sat on the bed reading a book but set it aside as he came in and went into the bathroom with him taking both his hands and looking at them. There was blood under his nails and when he pulled his jumper off all over his shirt. John began to undress him.

"It was easier that I thought it would be."

John turned his hands over and ran his fingers over his cracked, bloody knuckles. "You've grown alot in the last two years."

"Has he spoken?"

"No." John peeled his shirt from his shoulders and touched a welt on his arm.

"He got a lucky shot in with a poker."

"Just that one?"

"Yes."

"What did you do with the body?"

"I set the house on fire."

"That wont cover your tracks when they do a post mortem."

"I know, but do you think scorpia will care?"

"No, he was pretty useless anyway." John leant in and kissed him. "Are you okay?"

"I think so."

"Have you thought about where he can go?"

Yassen nodded. "Pollok is forever saying that none of his recruits are young enough, I think he'd take him considering he speaks three languages."

"Are you sure that's what you want to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"You could give him a normal life."

Thinking back on it Yassen wondered how his life would be different if he'd found Vyacheslav a foster family instead of an intelligence expert to bring him up. He'd definitely be dead, or in a British prison. As it was Vy had chosen Pollok and then slept with his face pressed against Yassen's ribs, thin body curled up against his side with his arm around him.

Yassen had slept right through.

Pollok had taken him, hadn't asked a single question about who he was and instead gave him a name. Alpha. Yassen held him close one last time before he left him for another job.

"Remember how we used to live in Moscow?"

"Separate but together."

"Exactly, these shits will use anything they have on you. Don't let them get anything, don't tell them about Russia; make something up and give it to them bit by bit so they think it's real."

"Okay."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Vyacheslav's eyes were fierce with the same determination as he remembered from Moscow. "Yes."

He'd kissed his forehead and left.

That night in a hotel room in Berlin Hunter had made a joke, a bad one. Yassen laughed. He'd stared at him for a long time and then kissed him onto the bed and kept him there for a good hour. As he'd been falling asleep he'd whispered in his ear.

"John, my name's John."

He'd had one and a half years with him. Six months of amazing sex and perfect missions, the two of them so close, so trusting that Julia Rothman; their handler, got mightily jealous. Even now Yassen couldn't tell if she'd known the nature of their relationship, he supposed she must have; if anyone had known then it would have been her. Then another six months, where they did major security for major people.

Then, one day John sat him down and clasped his hands together looking straight in his eyes.

"I have something to tell you."

He could tell it was something big by the way that he was looking at him.

"What is it?"

"Wait, I just have to warn you… If I tell you everything will change."

Yassen had sat for a few moments and then swallowed. "What is it?"

"I'm MI6, I'm a double agent."

He'd done a lot of shouting, though fortunately they were in a villa in the Italian alps with no one to hear. John had said all the right things, told him that he had his life in his hands. Yassen slammed him into a wall and bit his lip so hard it bled, John hadn't fought him when he'd pushed him onto his back and spread his legs. Some kind penance perhaps.

He'd changed, now he was always honest; he told him everything. When he made dead drops, when he met with his contact, when he didn't want to kill someone. And suddenly Yassen realised that the desperate sex after jobs stemmed half from guilt as well as adrenaline and lay awake watching the strain of the everyday melt from him.

Two months before MI6 shot him he told him about Helen, about the baby he'd conceived six months ago after Malta. They'd spent less than two days apart after Malta, Yassen had suspected nothing. He'd taken him again, wary that their time was limited, and those last two months passed by. He knew everything about John, and he everything about him.

Then the bridge.

He couldn't believe that Vy had only been ten at the time, he remembered finding him and just surrendering himself to Vodka for a long month while the kid kept scorpia in the dark. He'd been completely off his head, immobile, and then one day he'd left the bottle and gone back to work. The way he'd killed after that… A trail of bodies so long Scorpia thought he was paying someone else to help him.

Fourteen years of death, and then Alex… Vyacheslav had stared at him for a long time after that mission when he told him there was an Alex Rider. Then he'd told him to forget him but he'd kept turning up, one job after another; getting in his way and shooting him that smirk and _god_ was he attractive. He'd fought it to start with, making himself as busy as possible to try and block out thoughts of the boy slowly removing his clothes in front of him. He had fantasies about strip searching him for fucks sake, about that moment when he'd run his fingers over the back of his balls and hear him inhale sharply and turn his head away.

It was wrong, thoughts of him cropped up when he was looking through his scope waiting for a target and he'd almost banged his head against the wall. In a bar in Lithuania he'd seduced a young blonde and fucked himself senseless before leaving more frustrated than he'd been before. He'd been unable to get that moment before the bull ring out of his mind, when he'd touched his lower back and Alex had leant back into it. Then on air force one when he'd been lying there holding his arm… He really had thought he was dying, and when he'd woken up he'd decided to stop fighting it.

In Taiwan his lucky heart had been pounding as he ran his fingers over Alex's lips and then in Libya… When he'd seen the grave he started to wonder if there was something deeper to the lust. He'd cradled his feverous body in his arms in the front seat as Vyacheslav drove to the only doctor he knew in Libya who he could vaguely trust. They'd been three days in the basement of his house until he pronounced him fit to travel, he'd almost woken up blinking with unfocused brown eyes at Yassen as he ran his fingers through his hair. And again in the back of the truck as they crossed the border, his thin body pushing closer.

When he'd woken up in Egypt the way he'd fallen off the bed, eyes wide with fear and confusion, it had made his blood rush. The way Alex looked when he was scared turned him on, the adrenaline, the way the tension in his limbs was expressed in toned muscle. When he was tired too, his brown eyes beneath his wet blonde hair in the bath, his pliant body limp against him as he'd carried him from the table to the bed and watched him remove the towel to sleep naked. He'd barely touched him, the doctor had done most of the care in the basement, and then… with his skin still damp from the shower… Worst had been when he'd had an arm around him, his fingers aching to touch a nipple to wrap around his soft shaft and stroke him while he leant against him and let whispers of sighs out against his skin.

The kiss in the flatbed had been less than consensual on his part. He'd fought him with everything he had, and then; pinned beneath him ran his hands over his chest urgently after the gun went off. The nightmare of getting him back to Britain had been somewhat assuaged by that second kiss in the back of the car, and certainly by the one on his living room floor. He'd made such needy noises in the back of his throat as he stroked his tongue with his own.

Fulfilling sexual fantasies in that house the first time he'd touched him had seemed like heaven. It didn't matter that he hadn't gotten inside him yet because the sight of Alex when he was being fingered was more than enough to get him off. He looked so excitingly confused at the depth of the pleasure and at some points so agonisingly close to coming Yassen hadn't been able to breathe.

The fact that he'd been a virgin shouldn't have taken him by surprise, not after how he'd reacted to that first blowjob. Still, it reminded him of the wrongness of his actions and he'd tried to suppress the way he felt for morality's sake but failed… Miserably.

After the football stadium he'd been barely coherent, insensible with relief and anger. It had been too hurried and hard and lying next to him as he fell asleep he'd been scared by the enormity of what he felt. He'd asked himself over and over again if he would have shot himself had Alex not seemingly come back to life. He'd realised the power that John's son now had over him, he realised he loved him. He'd run.

Yassen hadn't wanted to lie to Alex about his reasons, he guessed it was power play. The sex had been fantastic, Alex with his shirt undone cheeks blushed with lust, moving sharply, grinding his pleasure deep.

He didn't know what to do about the obvious problem that the relationship only went one way. It had been irrational to ask him to come with him like that… He felt exposed now, like he'd given away a major weakness; perhaps he had. Too late now…

Yassen yawned and turned from the window and lying down on the bed beside Vyacheslav. The man woke blinking blearily and shuffled closer out of old habits, then pressed his forehead to his arm.

"What am I going to do Vy?"

"You never take my advice."

"It was stupid advice."

"What is stupid is starting a relationship with a fifteen year old."

"Do you think it's wrong?"

"No, just stupid. He doesn't love you, he doesn't even know you."

"That could change, it hasn't been that long…"

"I suppose."

"You knew about John didn't you?"

Vyacheslav opened his eyes and looked up at Yassen, he was staring at the ceiling. "By the time I found out he was already dead."

"And before that, why did you hate him?"

"Come on Yassen… Back then I hated everyone."

"Even me?"

"Sometimes."

"And now?"

"I don't."

"Is that it?"

"I don't hate you, I'm not going to get all soppy."

"Are you saying I'm soppy?"

"_I was going to take you to Florence and just make you fall in love with me_, gush gush gush." Vyacheslav turned over away from him, closing his eyes and saying grumpily: "You're getting old."

"I suppose I am."


	40. Prague Pt 3

Yassen was in Prague to cover Vyacheslav while he met with his MI6 contact. The contact was a sweeper; a glorified cleaner who checked all the offices during breaks and at the end of the day to ensure all files were locked away or burnt in the incinerator on the fifth floor. Sometimes those files that were intended to be burnt were read by the mousey looking woman who sat opposite Vy and their contents committed largely to memory before their consumption by the flames.

They were in a café, she was on holiday.

Vy had turned her because she was forty, intelligent but non-promotable; she had a tendency to make other people feel uncomfortable. This meant she was lonely and bored, the fact that she'd fallen head over heels for a little danger may also have something to do with Vyacheslav's dark eyes if her blush said anything. He had her call him foxtrot.

He spoke to her for twenty minutes while Yassen watched the street and surrounding buildings. Then he left and she watched his bum all the way out of sight. He joined him back in the undertaker's house half an hour later.

"Anything good?"

"Nothing relevant to you other than she saw your boy walking into Blunt's office. She said the file they had on him took up half a filing cabinet."

"Sounds like she's taking some risks, looking in cabinets."

"She'll blow herself soon."

"You know why…"

"Because she's bored?"

"Because she's interested in you."

Vyacheslav shrugged.

"You considered it… She's not bad looking." Yassen was on new ground, he tended to avoid the subject of sex at all costs with Vyacheslav unless he asked about Alex. (which he had… once)

"Not attracted to her." He got up and picked up his jumper from the bed stuffing it into the bag, Yassen wondered if it was to try and distract him.

"What about the one from the Kremlin?" She was a ruthless drop dead gorgeous woman, who also followed Vy with her eyes as he walked away.

"I don't Yassen."

"Don't?"

"I just don't."

"Not ever?" he knew he sounded incredulous.

"No."

Yassen realised he'd overstepped himself. "Sorry."

Vyacheslav continued packing his bag and then sighed. "I just don't find anyone attractive, it's not your fault."

"Yes it is." Yassen muttered flopping backwards onto the bed and staring at the mouldy celling. Vy ignored his mutter.

"You should pack; you'll miss your flight."


	41. Cairo

Alex was in an apartment complex, he walked to and from school his hair shining in the sun. Yassen liked watching him like this… he was so beautiful… That day he'd finally given in in his back garden his hair had shined like that, his skin a golden colour that seemed filled with vitality. Someday maybe he'd be able to touch him in the sun again, run his hands over warm skin. For now he was limited to the shadows of the night.

At midnight he broke into the complex and made his way to Alex's room, locking the door behind him.

At first he thought he was asleep. Just for a second. Then his breath became stuck in his throat as he realised that Alex lay completely stark naked with his hand around his dick. In the half-light from outside he could see the glorious expanse of skin and - now he was listening - his punctuated breathing as he slowly stroked himself.

Yassen's hand went to his own crotch and he leant against the wall, legs suddenly struggling with their job of keeping him upright. He mouthed an obscenity and kept himself hidden in the shadows eyes fixed on Alex's face.

He'd obviously only just started, he wasn't that far along. His eyes were closed and his breathing, while stuttered, was still slow. Though as he rubbed his thumb over the head he let a small gasp go and tipped his head back lifting his shoulders from the bed. Yassen gritted his teeth and palmed himself through his trousers as something deep inside him twisted at the sight. Then he stifled a moan as one of Alex's legs drew up slightly and dropped to the side with his other hand running up his inner thigh to run over his balls.

His toes curled and hips lifted on the next few strokes and he let out a moan, opening his eyes and glancing around before lifting his other hand to his mouth. Now Yassen _really_ couldn't breathe as he ran his tongue over his fingers. _He's going to finger himself._ The thought had him swallowing, mouth dry with anticipation. His eyes were shut again as he drew both his legs up and slipped his wet fingers behind his balls and over his entrance.

Lifting his hips he eased them inside himself with a gasp and bit his lip stepping up the pace of his strokes. His feet kept slipping down as he became less lucid and he looked around breathlessly before shimmying down and put his feet over the cast iron bed foot leaving himself totally exposed to Yassen's eyes as he pushed his fingers as deep as he could, breathing rapidly. Chest heaving, he slid a third finger within himself and Yassen rubbed himself harder; the knuckle of his other hand in his mouth to stop Alex hearing him.

His abs and his legs tensed and relaxed in time with his ragged breathing, his feet flexed forwards and backwards jerking when pleasure peaked and going limp when it fell. He had to be close, his skin sheened with sweat his blonde hair falling in his eyes. Yassen wanted to see him come, hear him moan and watch his beautiful limbs tense in ecstasy.

His whole body seemed to go into a spasm as he neared completion, his hips lifted, his legs shaking and his eyes rolled back in his head. Then he came, body shaking, his feet twitching and went completely still.

Slowly Yassen pushed himself from the wall and cleared his throat. Alex jumped and pushed himself up the bed trying to cover himself with the sheet and then, when he saw him, let his head drop back.

"Jesus, I thought you were Jack." He whispered and then accusingly: "Were you _watching_?"

Yassen chuckled softly and toed his shoes off clambering onto the bed, too turned on for grace.

"I cant believe you just watched me do that." He looked like he was blushing, he was.

"How could I not?"

"Did you _like_ it?"

"I don't think I've ever been this hard." Yassen eased himself on top of him, hovering, weight supported on one elbow and his knees.

Alex looked down at his crotch and then reached up and pulled him down for a kiss. Yassen took his bottom lip in his mouth and sucked, setting his teeth to it just slightly till he heard him breath in harshly through his nose and felt him tighten his grip on his hair. He was hard again, the wet end of his cock touching his abdomen just above his belt, Yassen broke the kiss with a final lick to his bottom lip to see what he wanted to do.

For a moment Alex was still, then he looked down to where the two of them were hard and suddenly burst into action pulling at his belt, then his fly and yanking his trousers down below his bum. He helped him get his underwear down and gasped himself as Alex's hand, already wet with lube from somewhere, wrapped around his shaft and stroked him till he was slick with it. He hadn't intended on this, he'd been thinking something slower and this tomorrow but he wasn't about to argue.

Alex guided his hips down, rocking his own backwards with his feet on the backs of his thighs (he wondered just how flexible he was), then the head of his cock was against his wet entrance and his arm wrapped around his left shoulder tightly. With his other hand on his bum he pulled him down and Yassen took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. He could feel Alex tensing and relaxing against the tip of his dick, it felt fucking amazing. He tried to remind himself that Alex still wasn't used to this and he'd have to take it slow before pushing forwards and slipping inside the tight ring of muscle.

The high whine breathed against his neck made him pause, he was tight around him so tight it almost hurt.

"Shh, relax." He gasped pulling out a little and slowly sliding deeper. Alex dug his nails into his shoulder through his tee-shirt and tipped his head back breathing harsh and staccato in his ear. He could barely breathe himself as he searched for the control to give him a moment to adjust.

"_Yassen_."

God, even if they had sex a thousand times he would never get used to his name said like that. Pure unadulterated _lust_. Down his back and over his shoulders his skin tingled, his was on fire.

"Yassen I-" He rocked his hips back and he slid even deeper, he thrust against him on instinct. "Mm… Ah! Like that."

"Shh." Yassen found his lips and ground against him slowly knowing he liked it, he shuddered beneath him dragging his nails over one shoulder blade.

"Move." He gasped into the kiss. He needed no more encouragement and moved very slowly out, catching Alex's gasps and returning them. When he thrust back in Alex buried his face in his neck and gripped his shoulders like a python. He could hear himself breathing roughly as he slowly built to a rythmn, feeling Alex's legs tight around him, moving with him lifting his hips to meet his thrusts. He was trying desperately to be quiet barely making a sound except every now and then when he changed the angle and hit his prostate. Then he let out a tiny moan, muffled against his skin, and gripped even tighter.

He wasn't going to last long, what with watching him beforehand and the obvious thrill of getting caught. Biting his lip Yassen reached down and pulled Alex's leg up higher grinding deeper and hitting his prostate again and again, if possible Alex's grip on him tightened and he curled against him wound to breaking point.

God, he clenched around him, letting a sharp cry go. He held his breath as he fell over the edge, thrust deep inside him as he came, and let it go in a stuttered sigh. Then he lay, boneless, on top of him. In the euphoria he murmured softly in Russian:

"_I love you_."

After a while he went to move but Alex held him there, legs tightening around him and he stayed. "I missed you." He said softly and then laughed a little.

"What?"

"I sound like a girl."

"I wouldn't know…"

Alex turned his head to meet his eye. "You mean you've never…"

"Not even a kiss."

"Finally, one thing I have more experience in than you…" Alex said with a grin.

"What am I missing out on?" he asked.

He could see him think for a second. "Fuck all actually. You kiss better than any girl."

"How?" he pulled out of him and he winced, he pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Sorry."

"It's okay." He turned with him onto his side. "I wasn't really attracted that much to Sabina, it felt a lot like she was waiting for me to suddenly become passionate." He thought he saw him blush. "If you know what I mean."

"Go on."

"And the girl I tried to lose it to didn't really go for kissing in a big way, I probably would have got more of a response from a comatose person."

Yassen wondered if any of the men over the years had thought that about him, he certainly hadn't been interested in anything but release from nearly all of them. One he remembered, with a sense of humour like John's who he'd worked with once. He'd been mad, a risk taker with a manic laugh who pushed Yassen to the brink of killing him just because the threat of death amused him. He'd fought with him in a hotel room and given him a concussion before duct tapping him to the bed. Sitting there with a ripped shirt, head reeling he'd looked at him with glazed green eyes.

_"So… Now what are you going to do with me Yassen?"_

_He hadn't replied, sitting down to read through the information on the target that they were supposed to be working together to kill._

_"Don't you have any imagination? You could do any number of things to me…"_

_Yassen put down the pieces of paper and the photographs and picked up the roll of duct tape intending on shutting him up. Kneeling on the bed he was about to rip off a strip to stick over his mouth when the phone on the bedside table rang. He sighed and reached over for the phone but grunted when the man kneed him in the stomach, he lashed out pinning him to the bed head by his neck._

_He'd leant in. "If you do that once more I'll break your neck."_

_His eyes had dropped to his lips and then he surged forwards and kissed him. He'd slammed him back into the wood almost immediately and picked up the phone, it had been someone irrelevant he'd put it back down again and stared at the man._

_"Come on. When was the last time you had a fuck?" He licked his lips. "You look like you need it."_

_"You aren't my type." Yassen had replied flatly, with his blonde hair and green eyes the man was too far from John to be attractive for pretence purposes._

_"Come on." He ran the flat of his foot up his calf, touching the inside of his knee, Yassen stopped him there; catching his knee and digging his fingers in so he winced._

_"Stop."_

_"Fuck me." He wet his lips again. "Turn me over and get inside me, you're tempted… I know you are… You're getting hard just thinking about it."_

_Yassen let his leg go to reach for the tape he'd dropped but gasped as he succeeded in getting a knee to his crotch, rubbing against it. He ground back before he could stop himself and closed his eyes as he spoke in his ear; a sultry whisper._

_"I'm tight as hell."_

_He looked at him, meeting his green eyes, and then swore in Russian before meeting him in a rough kiss. He was all teeth and sharp, visceral friction; his knee rubbing between his legs too hard to be all pleasure. When he squeezed his crotch he moaned into his mouth, arms straining against the duct tape._

_"Untie me."_

_"No."_

_He bit him and he shoved him into the headboard again before resuming the kiss, finding the control the bindings gave him gratifying to say the least._

_When he'd woken up in the same position he'd almost thrown him off he'd fought so hard. He'd ridden him, pace punishingly slow, and when he'd cut through the tape of one of his wrists afterwards he'd knocked him out cold with a single punch._

"I've had a few like that." He murmured to Alex.

"Hmm."

"What's it like here?"

"Okay, I made a few friends… It's not easy though."

"No, I suppose not."

"Have you found out any more about what's going on here?"

"Nothing yet, what about you?"

"Sod all." He sighed and pressed his face to yassen's chest. He sounded worn beyond the lack of information.

"What is it?"

"Nothing… I'm just worried about Jack; I don't want her to get hurt because of me."

"I'll do anything I can, I'll talk to everyone I can think of."

"But if they know about us they won't tell you anything."

Yassen pulled away so he could look him in the eye. "I know. But I'll still try, I'll get people drunk or high or whatever else…"

Alex let a brief wan smile pass over his face. "Be careful."

"Of course… and you." He turned him over onto his back and kissed him, hand gliding over his ribs and coming to rest over his hip. "No getting high…" He kissed him again. "Or drunk." Another kiss.

"Or whatever else." Alex agreed.

For a while they just kissed, Yassen could feel Alex's lithe naked body melded to his and his hands running over his back. It was heaven to feel his young skin under his palms and he drew away for a moment to pull his teeshirt over his head and to shrug off his trousers before peeling the socks from his feet. He could feel his heart swell in his chest as he leant in to kiss him again, tangling their legs together and wrapping an arm around his waist.

"That's better." Alex mumbled, his almost hairless thigh between his legs and his hand running up and down his side. It was what he wanted to do when he woke up in the morning, when he went to bed, when Alex left his sight for more than a moment. It was terrifying, the enormity of the thing. Terrifying because when John had died it had hurt so much he'd sworn he'd never love anyone again. If anything ever happened to Alex… God, if he ever decided he didn't want him anymore…

Alex pulled back a little looking up at him, face in shadow. He looked almost apprehensive as he studied him and ran his fingers through his hair.

"What is it?" Yassen asked.

"I can feel it."

"What?"

"You know… When you kiss me, sometimes I can just feel it." He ran a thumb over Yassen's lips, his breath ghosted over them as well.

The assassin swallowed, he was reluctant to venture into the conversation Alex had begun with his statement in view of their recent history. He knew what he meant by it; sometimes kisses were so much more than kisses. Sometimes they were apologies, sometimes they were caring gestures, occasionally they were sympathetic, often they were struggles for dominance and just as often they were expressions of desire. Then, rarer, they were a way to convey contentment and love. The last time John had kissed him he had said goodbye, a more final goodbye than if he'd ever intended to see him again.

Yassen nipped Alex's bottom lip gently. "And what about that?"

Alex chuckled softly, he wondered if he was relieved he hadn't continued the conversation. It was enough that he knew despite what language he muttered it in.

"Did you lock the door?" The spy asked.

"That sounds _promising_."


	42. Birak Al Khiyam

"Alex!" Jack rattled the doorknob and Alex started upright, heart hammering in his chest, he half expected to be alone but Yassen still lay beside him propped up on his elbows in much the same startled state as he was.

"Your still here." He found himself grinning and then Jack rattled the door-handle again and the practicalities of the situation hit him. "I thought you said you'd leave before morning."

"I fell asleep." He muttered collapsing back onto the bed.

"Alex, wake up! I can hear you muttering. Why did you lock the door?"

"I'm awake!" he called.

"I'm making breakfast! Get up!"

Alex rolled to the side and struggled from the bed, then hissed and sank back onto it. "Ow."

"I _said_ you'd be sore in the morning." Yassen said and followed him, legs either side of his own wrapping his arms around him and dotting his shoulders with kisses.

"I love it when you do that. Can't I stay in bed with you?" Alex sighed, letting his head loll back onto the assassin's shoulder. "I'm so tired."

"I don't hear you moving in there!" Jack shouted from the kitchen.

"I guess not."

"Some day." Yassen promised and pressed a final kiss to his neck before looking around for his clothes. "I have something for you."

Alex sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his boxers on while Yassen went through his trouser pockets. He found himself eyeing up the man's body, the muscles in his legs and back and, with his head tipped to the side, his bum. When he turned around Alex's eyes were glued to his chest and then lower. His fingers tipped his head upwards and he met his eyes, there was almost a question in his features.

"What?"

Suddenly he was on his back with Yassen pinning him to the bed. He ran his hand down Yassen's side to his hip and then over his leg, it felt very nice indeed.

"Alex. Concentrate." He said.

"Mm." he replied. "I am."

"This is for you." It was the most basic phone imaginable, a nokia with a bit screen. "It's an international sim card, a way for you to get in contact with me. The number in it is untraceable but even so, try not to let it fall into the wrong hands."

Alex took it. "Thank you, but why now?"

"I was thinking, even if you had wanted to warn me about the football match you couldn't get in contact with me."

"Good point."

"And something about this whole thing makes me uneasy… I want to be able to contact you."

Alex nodded and then he grinned.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Yassen sighed and kissed him briefly, and then more deeply. "I'd better go."

As he was dressing Alex composed a message and sent it to the only number in the phone, when it arrived Yassen frowned at him and then opened the message.

_Phone sex?_

"I prefer the real thing." He replied, then: "You'd better lock that phone."

"I will." Alex put it down and came to him wrapping his arms around his shoulders, pressing their lips together and then jumping up and wrapping his legs around his waist. Yassen ran his hands up his thighs to his bum as he kissed him.

"Alex! I swear if I don't see you get in the shower soon I'll drag you out of bed!"

They parted with a sigh. "When will I see you again?"

"Tonight?"

Alex grinned and kissed him again. "Good. But… I'm a bit…"

"Three times in one day might be a bit much…" Yassen agreed. "See how you feel later. There's something else I feel like doing anyway."

Alex swallowed, thrilled but also slightly nervous. "Okay."

"You'll like it."

He grinned.

"Can you distract Jack?"

"Umm." Alex slid to the floor and looked down at himself. "That might be embarrassing."

Yassen laughed. "Cant you wrap a towel around yourself?"

"I guess that might work."

"Are you going to touch yourself in the shower?" he asked.

"Probably." Alex conceded, still blushing, and then quickly added. "You can't watch."

"Not today."

"That was a one-time thing."

Yassen shook his head. "No it wasn't."

Alex grabbed his towel. "I get to watch you before you watch me again."

"Alright."

"Really?"

"Why not?" Yassen raised his eyebrows with a grin.

* * *

><p>Yassen returned to the safe house to find Vyacheslav asleep, curled up on his side with his face buried in his forearms. He ghosted through the bedroom into the bathroom and pulled his clothes off running the shower. While he waited for it to run warm he looked down at himself, Alex's cum was smeared up his chest, dry and flaky now. He made a face and stepped into the stream of water grabbing some soap. Washing his hair an image of Alex masturbating in the shower came unbidden to his mind and he sighed leaning his head against the wall and letting the spray of the shower hit his shoulders. Did he love him? When the lust faded would there be anything left? He shook his head and pushed away from the wall turning the shower off and getting out. Grabbing a towel he rubbed his hair vigorously and dried himself off before wrapping it around his waist and going into the bedroom. Vy was still asleep as he pulled some boxers and jeans on.<p>

He considered Vyacheslav for a moment. He'd got in late last night and gone to bed fully clothed, it was almost eleven and if he was going to adjust to the time difference it would be better to wake up now and go to bed early. He was reluctant to do it though, the man rarely slept easily.

As if he sensed he was there he shifted and then opened his eyes, pushing himself up onto one elbow.

"What's the time?"

"Nine thirty."

Vy scratched his head, hair sticking up wildly. "Where were you?" he asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"With Alex."

"All night?" he stood up and Yassen turned reaching for a shirt, he saw Vy's glance at his shoulder in the mirror: Alex's nails through his shirt had left scratches.

"I fell asleep."

"The men in the helicopter… they were British Special Forces."

Yassen turned to him. "Then he was right, MI6 set him up for this mission."

"The question is what does Scorpia want with him?"

"I'll have to go and see Vensky…" Yassen said. "Where is he? In Cuba?"

"No. He went home."

"Siberia?"

"Yeah."

Yassen cursed. "You've got a job in Tunisia don't you?"

"Yes."

"It'll take me three days to get to the Urals and then I've still got to get him to talk to me."

"I don't even think he'll know anything."

"He's the only one who I have a chance with who might."

"Rodregues?"

"He's always hated me; John killed his brother while I was in training, he blamed me."

"Then you'll just have to go."

Yassen nodded. "I'll go today. I need to see him first though."

"Why?"

"To tell him about MI6."

"You gave him that phone. Text him."

Yassen sighed. "You_ really_ don't like him."

"He's already almost got you killed once and…" Vy opened the door to the kitchen.

"And what?"

Vy shrugged. "Are you hungry?"

"And what Vyacheslav?" He followed him into the kitchen.

He turned. "I don't like dragging you from the bottom of a bottle of vodka and I want you around, he's too unpredictable and everyone around him ends up as collateral – he said that himself."

"What exactly did you two talk about when I was out of the room?"

"When?"

He was stalling. "In London."

"Not a lot." He turned away again and opened the fridge looking intently in it - trying to avoid eye contact. He'd always been incredibly bad at lying to Yassen and even now, when he told to truth to no one, it was painfully obvious he was hiding something.

He didn't know whether or not to call his bluff.

"There's nothing in the fridge Vy."

He sighed and shut it turning around and looking him in the eye, waiting for him to ask. Instead he found himself backing down and sighed, took him by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug. His arms were just as tight around him.

"I won't end it."

"I know, that's what scares me."


	43. Lesva

Vensky had been a security adviser to Scorpia for years. He'd conveniently retired from the board just prior to Alex showing up on the international scene and had spent most of the intervening time drinking wine and smoking cigars in Cuba. Everyone who'd ever worked with him said he deserved it, effortlessly professional to the last only a very small proportion of jobs he'd worked on had gone wrong and of those every one had been cleaned up efficiently with a shipment of concrete shoes.

Yassen and he had always been amiable and just before he'd retired Yassen had helped him out on a particular job as a favour, ridding the man of a few loose ends and stopping the operation going south. As such he owed him.

He was originally from the Urals and was flat faced and dark skinned. He was also relatively short and the last time he'd seen him had been running badly to fat from the relaxed life he'd been living. He'd seemed incredibly relaxed and happy on the warm island off the Americas and he wondered why he'd come back to the tiny town in the snowy wastes where he'd been born. The area was beautiful true, in a cold, sharp way but life here was hard.

The village was kept alive by hunting. The buildings all wooden shacks heated with stoves and open fires, there were three cars all together one of which had picked him up from the nearest town. He'd intended on driving himself but a hard-faced hunter had turned up in a pick-up truck and it seemed pointless to refuse. He'd been here before with Vensky once, in the empty years after John and spent a weekend hunting and drinking vodka. He tried Vensky's father's house but it was predictably empty so he turned and walked down the street to the building that served as a bar.

The shack leant to one side, the wood black with age and wood smoke in some places and almost green in others. He stamped his boots off in the doorway and lifted the blanket that served as the second door. Despite it only being four o clock there were quite a few people in the bar, a group of old women sat chatting while working furs in the traditional way. Using dried gut as thread they made boots, passing the gut between their teeth to soften it before passing it through the skins. They were loud, chatting half in Russian and half in a Ural dialect he couldn't decipher. Some hunters sat at the table the other side of the fire with their guns leant against the wall. They were quieter, discussing hunting and from what Yassen could gather the exploits of a friend's distillery.

Vensky sat on his own in the centre of the room with two glasses.

The women and the men stopped talking for a moment as he came through the door but resumed after a time when he sat down and picked up one of the glasses. Vensky clashed the glasses together and then they drunk and sucked through their sleeves to prolong the burn.

"How is retirement?" Yassen asked.

"Good." The russian's dark eyes were slightly clouded with drink. "I'm happy."

"Were you not in Cuba?"

"I was, but I am Russian and I longed for Russia. The _cocha_, the _cher_. You must feel it too." He looked melancholy.

"Perhaps sometimes."

"Where were you born Yassen? I never thought to ask."

"St Petersburg."

"But you grew up in Moscow?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Yassen raised an eyebrow. "My parents were killed, I decided to get out of the city."

"Have you been back?"

"No."

He tutted. "A shame, it is beautiful. Especially this time of year when the Neva freezes."

Yassen nodded. "I used to ice-skate on it when I was young."

"When I first went there all the locals used to say the water was still contaminated from the war, all the corpses that were put in it made it taste like death."

"A little before my time."

He laughed slightly bitterly. "I _am_ getting old."

Vensky was a lot different from how Yassen remembered him, during his working years he was cool and professional. In retirement he had seemed gregarious. The man before him seemed shrunken, and even – dare he say it – depressed.

"Are you sure you prefer the urals to cuba? You seemed happier there."

"Russia fits my state of mind." He replied. "It is the fate of we professionals to end up dead or alone and I am not dead."

"I would have thought you'd take a substantially younger wife or something." Yassen said. "To enjoy retirement with."

"I read people too easily to pay a wife for her services, and I am too old to find a real one."

"So here you are."

"So here I am."

"Do you still keep tabs on what is going on?"

"Of course." He poured some more vodka. "Though Scorpia is not what it used to be."

"No."

"I know why you're here Yassen," Ice slid down Yassen's spine. "I never knew that Hunter meant so much to you. Though even I saw the change in you after he died."

Yassen said nothing.

"What is his son like?"

"Remarkable."

"He would be."

Yassen put his hand on the grip of one of his pistols glancing around the room. "I suppose they've got to you too."

"You know how Scorpia is."

Yassen's phone began to ring, it was Vyacheslav.

"Yes?"

_"It's a trap Yassen; get the fuck out of there!"_

He stood, drawing his pistol and so did everyone else in the room but for Vensky who abandoned the use of a glass and swigged instead from the bottle.

"You shouldn't have come here Yassen." He said.

"You betrayed me." The people he'd thought were locals were closing in slowly on all sides, rifles and handguns all pointed at him.

"I'm sorry. They won't hurt you, it's just to stop you interfering. It's better this way… You can't get too attached."

"And end up alone in a bar drinking myself to an early grave Vensky? Are you really _happy_?"

"I suppose not." He said drunkenly.

"What are they going to do to him?"

He didn't speak.

"Answer me you sad bastard," Yassen roared. "What are they going to do to him?!"

"Expose him and kill him."

"He's just a kid, he's _fifteen_!"

Vensky shrugged, Yassen felt at least four people try to take his arms he fought them but there were too many guns trained on him for escape. They forced him to the floor and he sprawled, his phone clattered to the floor, he shouted at it:

"Save him! Save Alex!"

One of the 'hunters' shot the phone to pieces he was dragged backwards through the door.

"I'll fucking kill you Vensky! You're a dead man walking!"

The old man stood, swaying. "I'm looking forward to it."


	44. Razim's Fort

Vy stood staring at his phone. He couldn't breathe. It was air-force one all over again.

"Fuck no, Yassen." He threw the phone at the wall. "Because of that _fucking_ kid!"

He could still see Yassen's prone form, pale and seemingly lifeless in a hospital bed. Could taste the same fear at the back of his throat that he'd never open his eyes.

"Fuck!"

He was stuck at a meeting point on an island in the middle of an unnamed mouth of an unnamed bay very close to the Libyan border. He was supposed to be meeting a contact from the nearby military base who helped smuggle people in and out of Libya but that was tonight and he wouldn't be able to take him anywhere. The man who'd dropped him off on the uninhabited island wouldn't be coming back till tomorrow.

He was helpless to get anywhere. Unless….

Vyacheslav ran to the beach and stared out over the sea. The next island was in sight, the tide was in the process of turning.

He pulled his shirt over his head.

"One of the bars on my window is loose." Jack whispered.

"Do you think you'd fit through the gap?"

"It's worth a try."

"Don't take any risks."

"You said Yassen might help us."

"He's in Russia, it might be a couple of days before he can get back."

Jack wrapped her arms around him. "I'm scared Alex."

"I should never have let you come with me. You should have gone back to America."

"What?"

"I saw you looking at flights a while ago."

Jack gripped his shoulders. "No no Alex, it's not like that. My dad's sick."

"I'm sorry." Alex shook his head. "God I'm sorry Jack."

"It's okay… After this, okay?"

He nodded.

They were returned to their cells soon after, Alex sat on his bed. He needed a plan, but he had nothing. He lay down, at least trying to get some rest but sleep proved elusive and when men came to his door he was wide awake. They opened the door and Alex gasped.

"Serin?"

"Abdullah. My name's Abdullah." Then to his men. "Bring him."

They came and seized his arms, frog marching him behind the captain.

"Serin! What the fuck are you doing? It's me, Alex!"

He didn't respond, desperate he lashed out with a foot and caught him behind the knee. He turned and the next thing Alex knew he was reeling from a punch in the eye, dizzy with the shock and force of the impact. He dragged him close by his hair.

"My name isn't Serin. Do you understand?"

He nodded mutely and Serin let him go, striding off down the corridor. He led them further into the compound into a room that looked similar to a bunker. In the centre there was a chair and at the sight of it Alex tried to fight the two men holding him. It was something out of an American prison, an electrocution chair, rigged up to machines on either side.

"Hold him."

Serin punched him in the stomach, forcing the air out of his lungs. While he coughed and struggled to draw air into his lungs they pushed him into the chair and secured his arms and legs.

"You saved my life in Libya." Alex gasped. "And I saved yours."

"Shut up." He produced a flick knife from his pocket and slipped it underneath his sleeve, the steel cold against his skin, and cut through the cuff and then the sleeve up to the restraint. In this way he cut all the clothing from Alex's body except his boxers. When his hand brushed over his dick Alex turned his head away, reminded all too well of that time in his flat on his couch, he pulled his face back, leaning on the back of the chair.

"You don't want to remember it?" He asked. "Not even the way you kissed me?"

"You're not Serin." Alex hissed.

"What makes you think_ he_ was?"

"Get off me."

The steel door clanged against the sandy coloured wall and Abdullah stepped back dumping all his clothing to the side and going to the machines behind the chair, a moment later he began attaching electrodes to Alex's skin. Through the door came Razim and Alex's mouth dropped open at the sight of Julius.

"You?"

"Surprised Rider?" He sneered. "You really have no idea what's going on…"

"If you're so informed why don't you tell me?"

As his clone opened his mouth Razim snapped. "Enough Julius. Now Alex, you must wonder why you're here."

"Is Serin yours?"

The man glanced at the doctor. "He was surprisingly easy to turn, you quite broke his heart. Also, of course, he's totally insane; you just have to bring out the _best_ him."

Abdullah/Serin ignored him connecting electrode after electrode to different parts of Alex's body.

"He is very useful for my research, him being a doctor, as you can see. Now you must be wondering what the machine is."

"I assume you're going to electrocute me."

"No, no, nothing of the sort." He smiled. The expression sent a shiver of fear down Alex's spine.

"Then what?"

"It measures pain." Again that sickening smile.

Alex closed his eyes. It's easier to think of what you will say than what you won't; you'll last longer.

"Of course for the plan to work we cant harm you physically, but the great thing about this machine is that it also measures emotional pain. Are we ready?"

"Yes sir." Serin replied from behind him.

"Then we'll just have a test run, open your eyes Alex. You'll want to see this."

Against his better judgement he opened his eyes as a TV screen was pulled in front of him and a DVD was placed into the player. It had a number six written on it. He waited while it loaded, expecting a gory image of torture and death but instead when the image came up it was of a baby's mobile spinning slowly, stars and a moon in the middle.

_"And it's all finally finished."_

_Teddy bears and butterfly wallpaper covered the walls and the ceiling was painted sky blue._

_"It has taken us a week of work but we finished it. Now I just hope we can stay, I'm particularly proud of this little bit over here._" _The camera focused on a scribble of crayon on the skirting board. "Which was Alex's artistic contribution."_

"No." Alex breathed. "Please."

_ The crib stood in the centre of the room, a dark blue and this time when the camera moved towards it, it was angled down inside where a baby lay asleep._

_"And there he is, little artist Alex." A hand came into shot and tickled the tiny baby's ribs._

_"John don't, you'll wake him." A woman's voice, the camera whipped round and there was Helen, blonde with blue eyes. She looked tired._

_"And his wonderful mother, Helen."_

_She smiled. "You're obsessed with that thing."_

_"I wanted to film the room, it looks so good."_

_"Did you get Alex's first piece of graffiti?"_

_"Graffiti? Did you hear that Sashka?" The camera was once again on the baby who was stirring. "Your mother thinks your creation is graffiti."_

_The baby opened it's eyes groggily and hiccupped._

_"Oh John, you've woken him."_

_"It's okay, here take this." He handed her the camera._

_"How do I work this?" The picture turned upside down for a moment._

_"Just point it in the right direction."_

_It turned the right way up and now showed John holding the baby against his chest tickling the baby's ribs again. It gurgled happily, looking tiny cradled in one muscular arm. _

_"My little sashka."_

"Makes you want to vomit doesn't it." Razim said, stopping the DVD.

"Put it back on." Alex demanded, realising at the same time that he had tears streaming down his face.

"No. It has served it's purpose and if I see any more I'll throw up."

"How did you get hold of it?" he choked out.

"It was in MI6 archives."

Another thing they'd kept from him. Those fucking bastards.

"Do you miss your mummy and daddy?" Julius sneered.

Alex stopped himself snapping back with a shut up and instead said. "At least mine love me."

"_Loved_ little Sashka. They're dead now…" He leant close. "They went _boom_."

"Fuck off you miserable little brat."

"Back off Julius, I don't want him angry." Razim ordered and then turned back to him. "Now as I see it there are two pillars left in your little world, one is Jack and the other Scorpia's most skilled assassin."

"He'll kill you." Alex muttered.

"No, he isn't capable of that anymore."

Alex looked up at him in alarm. "What?"

"Yassen went to Russia a few days ago to meet an old friend, and he betrayed him."

"He'd never fall for that."

"It was crafted to an incredible degree, we brought in battered old agents from bygone days even as far back as the second world war. He didn't suspect a thing." He turned to the television again and took out the first disc stowing it in a cd holder and bringing out another, inserting it into the player.

The footage was grainy, like a cctv camera but he would recognise Yassen's shoulders and the back of his head anywhere. As he watched he answered his phone and drew a gun but he was surrounded on all sides by at least fifteen people with rifles. They crept closer and forced him to the wooden floor. One of the younger men raised a handgun and fired.

Yassen went still.

The screen went black.

"No!" Alex screamed, yelling at Razim as he took the disc out and calmly put it away. "Yassen!"

He broke, agony welling up and consuming him. "Please… Please… Not for me. Oh god. He can't be dead."

Razim laughed as he wept, bent forwards as far as the restrains would allow him. Julius stared at him in fascination. "The reading is so high."

"They were lovers Julius." Razim explained.

"_Really_?" He leant close. "You mean you and he _actually_ fucked? I bet he did you hard."

Alex didn't even hear him, all his senses had shut down. Yassen's warm arms around him, his rare smile, his blue eyes. Gone.

"Yassen…" He breathed.

"We'll leave him for half an hour we can't do anything more to him now anyway; he's too desensitised. Come Julius."

"I want to watch him suffer."

"You can watch later."

He huffed. "I don't see why I should miss anything."

Razim leant towards him and spoke softly in his ear. He rolled his eyes but acquiesced. "Okay."

They left him with Serin, his two men and the blank screen. His body shook still in some kind of exhausted shock and he couldn't breathe for the pain in his chest, the terrible tearing of his heart.

What would they do with the body? Chop it up into pieces? He didn't think he could stand that. Yassen's limbs, so effortlessly co-ordinated and beautifully defined, wrenched apart… Or maybe they'd just dump it in the snow, maybe he might be able to find it. Bury it, burn it. What would Yassen prefer? He ought to know.

He fought through the haze of pain and fixed two goals in his mind. He had to Yassen's body, hold him for the last time. But first he had to get out and save Jack.

Razim returned soon after he lifted his head and considered his options for escape.

He watched him for a time and then pronounced: "And now the final pillar comes crashing down, watch and learn Julius, this is how you completely break someone."


	45. Medinine

Vyacheslav flopped coughing up water on the shore and paused for a total of five seconds to catch his breath before dragging himself to his feet and staggering up the beach. By all rights he should be dead, he'd been bobbing around in the water, flailing forwards, for nearly three hours. But somehow he had neither been swept completely into the bay or out to sea. He should be on the spit of land that joined to the mainland. Yet as he crested the lip of the beach his heart dropped as he saw he was on another island.

"No. Fuck!" Had he swum the wrong way?

Between him and what was unmistakably the mainland was another stretch of water bigger that the last. He sunk to his knees. He'd failed, he had no phone, no means of communication at all and he was still stuck out in the middle of the sea. Looking right and left he swore in all the languages he knew and then stopped mid-sentence.

The water in front of him was so calm, like a lake not the sea. He ran to the other side of the tiny island and looked out. There was a sea wall connecting his island and the main land that curved out to the left and met up with the spit of land.

"Oh thank God." He ran for it.

The going was slow over the sea wall because it was made of enormous concrete blocks. It also curved a long way out to sea. By the time he got to the spit of land it was almost dark but two trucks still waited for him at the end of the road. He jogged up exhausted and took the keys from a surprised looking Arab in dish-dash before jumping in and driving off.

The nearest airport was in Medinine. He got on the P1 and sped off down the tarmac. Vyacheslav had only driven this fast once before in his life and on that occasion he'd killed the little Nissan micra he'd forced around the M25 at 100 miles an hour. The car simply shook itself to pieces. Now he drove a pick up truck and it cruised easily at one hundred and twenty on the straight road. It was still four hours later that he reached the city and when he got to the airport eleven o-clock. After ambushing an unsuspecting man for a shirt in the car-park and leaving him knocked out behind his car Vy walked in. There were two flights left on the board. One to Cairo and one to Tunis. The one to Tunis left in half an hour and the one to Cairo in fifteen minutes. The man behind the desk stared at his dishevelled appearance as he stood staring up at the board.

"Of course it's like this; A flight to Tunis and then to Russia or a flight to Cairo."

The man stared even more as he realised that the westerner was talking to himself. He approached the desk. "Are there seats free on both flights?"

He checked the passenger list. "Yes sir. Which one would you like me to book you on?"

Vyacheslav leant on the counter. With no access to intelligence he was flying blind. He had to go with gut instinct; Yassen or Alex. Of course he wanted to fly to Russia, desperately, to get Yassen to make sure he was safe. But he'd heard over the phone that they weren't going to hurt him, just detain him and if he was in a prison somewhere in no danger of death and Vyacheslav went to him first… He wasn't sure Yassen would forgive him, he'd told him to save Alex. For some reason Yassen loved the brat and if he died and Vy could have saved him… But then again, if Yassen was killed and he could have prevented it he wouldn't know how to go on, the assassin was the only thing he had.

"Sir, the flight to Cairo leaves in ten minutes…"

Alex or Yassen.

"Sir?"

"I need a moment, just give me a moment."

He couldn't decide.

"Fucking Riders."

"Sir?"

"Cairo, get me on the plane to Cairo. I'll pay you whatever you want."


	46. The Road to Siwa

On the plane he caught CNN and held his breath for a few moments as it covered the attempted assassination of the American secretary of state. Then he got on the in-flight phone and started talking to informants. Slowly he began to piece together the events of the last few days - a chase through the streets of Cairo, a murdered weapons dealer and an overturned barge, a boy brought in by the CIA and now this.

The flight arrived at two in the morning at which point he walked through immigration with his Egyptian passport and got in a car that was waiting for him.

The man who was driving got straight to the point. "Scorpia is dead, I have a man who knows what the plan was who's looking for a pay out."

"How much?"

"He won't say."

"Take me to him."

The driver turned the corner and headed for a different part of town.

"Also, can you get me a sniper rifle and two handguns?"

"In the back, it's a Mauser…"

Vy grimaced.

"I've forgotten how you are with your weapons. Dragunovs are almost impossible to find out here, we're still using weapons pilfered from the Second World War."

"There's nothing wrong with Second World War weapons I'd just prefer using a Mosin-Nagent."

The man laughed. "Well the Mauser won't give you any trouble in this heat, we're not in Stalingrad now. I've also got a rocket launcher if you want it."

"No, did you get the phone?"

He pulled it from his pocket. "Prepaid international."

"How far to this man?"

"We're here."

He turned into a military base and showed a pass at the man on the gate who raised the barrier. A man in khaki desert uniform waved them over and they pulled up beside him.

"The airfield, he's waiting with a helicopter."

"Where is it?"

"Past the armoury. Left at the intersection."

"Thanks."

When they reached the airfield they found the informant standing by a Military helicopter with it's rotors already going. He grasped an M16 and jogged towards Vy as he got out of the car.

"The americans left ten minutes ago."

"To where?"

"I'll explain in the bird, we need to go!"

His driver held out the promised German sniper rifle and twin Makarovs. He tucked the handguns into the back of his trousers and slung the rifle over his shoulder. Then he pulled a roll of Egyptian pounds out of his pocket and handed them to him. "I'll call you if I want you to pick me up."

Vy sat in the back with the informant and put on the Headphones. "So what's going on?"

* * *

><p>Alex ran with Razim close on his heels, gunfire was all around him. Taking the stairs he threw the gun at the Egyptian; it was empty. The man took a shot at him from further down the stairwell but it ricocheted off the wall.<p>

"Did you think you were going to kill me Alex? Did you think you were going to get revenge?"

Alex couldn't figure out where these flights of stairs were going, the only thing left in his mind was that he wanted to hit the man, hurt him, end him. Also, if Razim got to kill him he'd never be able to find Yassen's body. After that there was only blackness, no motivation or goal to keep him going.

He reached the top of the stairs and found that to the right lay the bridge, half wrecked from machinegun fire to the other half of the fort and to the left another corridor. He tried to turn left but heard shouting in Arabic and ran out onto the bridge. He was more than half-way across when Razim screamed at him from the doorway.

"Stop right there!"

He stopped.

"Turn around!"

He turned and saw Razim, white hair stuck almost straight up.

"On your fucking knees!"

Game over, the CIA and Egyptian forces were locked in a fire-fight downstairs, Razim was going to kill him. He dropped to his knees and shook his head, feeling the man step onto the bridge and approach him, the battered thing groaned in protest.

"God I'm good, look at you." He laughed. "You're a work of art, a fucking work of art. Look at me boy!"

Alex kept his eyes on the pile of salt beneath them visible through the slats.

"I said look at me." He dragged his head up by his hair. "That's right, so I can see your eyes. You're empty, I made you empty! Now for the finishing touch." He let go of his hair and aimed the gun between his eyes. "And the famous Alex Rider will be no more."

A helicopter came swooping in from the left, buffeting the two of them with wind from the rotors. Razim fell to his knees too as the rope bridge swung in the gale and Alex desperately tried to crawl away. There was a shot and then an awful snap and he was falling, grabbing a plank and swinging into the wall of the opposite fort. He yelled as he hit the wall and hung there for a few seconds, dazed, before slowly waking up and reaching for the next plank like he would a rung on a ladder.

"Alex!"

He turned his head and saw that Razim had landed in the pile of salt.

"I'll kill you!" he screeched. "I should have won! You should be dead!"

He kept screaming but most of his words were drowned by the helicopter. He was sinking into the salt.

Alex dragged himself up the bridge, one leg numb from the impact with the wall, turning back when he got tired to watch Razim sink until he reached the top and collapsed in the doorway. When he turned to look again Razim had disappeared.

Limping down the flight of stairs that mirrored the ones on the other side, Alex heard the helicopter move away. This half of the fort was where they'd done the pain experiments. He made his way to the room and found his possessions, the phone Yassen gave him, battery removed and his father's knife. Then he picked up the CD case, flicking through the discs. He found discs labelled one to eight and then: _Yassen_.

Yassen was dead. Jack was dead. A wave of despair seized him and he couldn't breathe, he had to get outside. Hugging the case to his chest he found his way out and was inexorably drawn to the blackened shell of a land-rover that lay down the road that led to Siwa. He staggered more than walked to the burnt out wreck and fell to his knees in the field of debris by the driver's door.

"I'm sorry Jack, God I'm so sorry." The tears started again, running down his face as the sun rose across the desert painting him in oranges and yellows. "It's my fault, it's all my fault. You never got to see your dad, never got to go home. So selfish…"

"You are that." Alex looked up to see Serin standing with a rifle pointed at him. He'd been shot in the shoulder.

The Libyan was a far cry from the man he had been, he was pale regardless of his dark skin and gaunt in a way that suggested he'd lost too much weight than was good for him. One arm hung useless and he held the rifle in the other with the strap over his shoulder supporting the muzzle.

"You could have saved me. You didn't even have to _love_ me; you could have just called me back. But you just cut me off."

"You helped them kill Jack. You're the reason they killed Yassen." Alex said blankly.

"You drove me _insane!"_

Alex stared up at him through his tears suddenly realising that Serin was here to kill him, to exact his revenge. He turned back to the car.

"Look at me you bastard! Look at me!"

A shot. He didn't even jump. The body hit the ground with a thump.

"He's the one I saved in Libya."

Vyacheslav stood there in a Hawaiian shirt with a sniper rifle over one shoulder, holding a handgun. Somewhere a part of him recognised that he looked slightly amusing but he was far from amused.

"They killed Jack aswell." Alex managed, gesturing weakly at the car. "They made me watch both."

Vy stood there for a moment staring at him and then decided that whatever had happened to the kid Yassen could deal with once they'd got him back. "Come on, we've got to go."

He switched the handgun to the other hand and pulled him up .

"Your right, we've got to find his body."

"Who's body?"

"Yassen's."

"Yassen isn't dead."

"What?" Alex stared at him. "But… In the bar… They shot him, they made me watch."

"He's in a prison in northern Siberia."

"But I saw him die."

Vyacheslav's heart began to race. "When?"

"Yesterday."

"I heard it an hour ago from someone I trust, they're holding him in an old gulag work camp."

"It's on a disc. I have it." he proffered the case.

"Come on." He hurried Alex towards the waiting helicopter supporting most of his weight, as they got there the rotas started up and they were taking off a minute later, heading back to Cairo. Alex put on his headphones.

"Are you saying he's not dead?"

"What happens on the video?" Vyacheslav asked.

"He's in a bar and then all the people around him bring out guns and force him to the floor, then..." his voice roke, he swallowed and tried again. "Then one of them shoots him in the head."

"And then?"

"Then nothing."

"It must be fake."

"What if it isn't."

Alex clutched the CD case like it was his lifeline. He was pale, battered into a state of complete disrepair and looked as if at any moment he might go into complete emotional meltdown. Vy called the driver and patched it through to his headphones.

"I need a laptop, we'll be back in Cairo in twenty minutes."

"I'll be waiting."


	47. West Air Base, Cairo

The flight back to Siwa was long for both of them, Vyacheslav desperate to discount the footage and Alex desperate for it to be discounted. When they finally saw the city in the distance the two of them felt their stomachs turn over. It still took fifteen minutes to get to the airfield but as soon as the helicopter touched down they were out, running – or in Alex's case limping – across the tarmac to a car. Vy took a black duffle bag from the man in the car and threw it to the soldier who'd taken him.

"500,000."

He caught it, shrugged and ran back to the helicopter.

"The laptop? Where is it?" Vyacheslav demanded.

Alex got the disc out, leaning on the bonnet of the car and put it in the drive of the laptop. Vy shaded the screen with his hand and then got down on his knees and put it in the shadow of the car.

"There's two files on here." He said.

Alex's eyes widened and he lowered himself to the ground with a wince. Two files: _Yassen_ and _Yassen edited_.

Vyacheslav played _Yassen_ and the grainy bar scene came into existence.

"That's me on the phone." He murmured and swallowed as all the guns came into the shot and Yassen was forced to the floor.

Alex turned away covering his face with his hands and Vyacheslav turned his face away as Yassen's body fell limp on the floor. Hand over his mouth he watched as the bastards lifted his body and then laughed as Yassen fought them.

"Alex look!"

He was unmistakably shouting at the man with the bottle. All the agents left and there was just the remains of a phone on the floor.

"It was the phone." He ran his hands through his hair. "He's alive."

"Who is it?" The driver asked.

"A man with some very important information." Vy said, face shutting down. "Let's go."

Alex got in the back and put his head in his hands between his knees while the two men spoke in the front, his stomach was fluttering around and he had tears in his eyes. He was torn between relief, guilt and worry. Relief because Yassen wasn't dead, worry because he was in prison and guilt because the news had his heart soaring and jack was still dead. Locked in his head he didn't hear a word of what was spoken about in the front.

"Have you got the passports?"

"Yeah. What do you want me to do with the cash that was in there?"

"Keep it, services rendered."

"Who's the kid?"

"You know who."

"Who's he to you?"

"He's nothing to _me_, he's the world to someone else."

"The man in the video? Is he his son?"

"No, John rider's dead."

"So you're trading him for information."

"Something like that. Take us to a hotel."

"How good?"

"Decent, we need to clean up before we get on a plane."

"You need to change your shirt."

Vy looked at the man driving. He was his second pair of eyes, trained by Pollok he was probably his best agent and asked to work for him after Pollok was killed. He was fairly essential to the working of the network he'd set up; it had become so big these last seven years it was impossible to manage on his own. Recently he'd had more responsibility than usual with Vy so busy with Yassen and Alex. His name was Wilson or rather that was the identity he'd assumed.

Right now he was smirking - it was the first time he'd ever made even the vaguest reference to a joke. Vy decided to ignore it and glanced back at Alex. It looked like the mental breakdown had begun.

"Alex."

He rubbed his eyes and looked up at him, eyes ringed with red.

"You need to hold it together for a day, maybe two."

He nodded and in a cracked voice asked: "Where are we going?"

"Moscow then Vitim." Then to the man driving. "Did you organise the tickets?"

"They're with the passports." He turned into an underground car-park for a hotel. They paused for a moment while Alex washed his face with water from a water bottle and then got in the lift going up to reception. Wilson came with them to the desk organising them a room in fluent Arabic.

"What did you tell them?" Vy asked him.

"We're all brothers waiting for a flight."

The room contained a double bed and a single. Vy looked at them longingly but knew he wouldn't have time to sleep in one of them. "How long have we got?"

"An hour."

"Get in the shower." He said to Alex and then to Wilson. "Can you get some clothes for us?"

"What were you thinking?"

"Warm jeans, jumpers… shoes… The lot."

He sighed. "You haven't left me a lot of time."

"It doesn't have to be perfect, we'll only wear them for the flight."

"Okay," He looked at Alex and winced.

The spy stood in his boxers trying to find a towel. From his ankle to his hip on his right side there was vivid bruising. Around his wrists there was similar marks from handcuffs or restrains and more bruising up over his right shoulder and down his arm. With that, his black eye and various other cuts and scratches he looked like he'd been hit by a bus.

"He's going to kill me. Do you think your leg's broken?" Vy asked.

"I don't know, I don't think so; I can put weight on it."

The Russian knelt in front of him. "Where's most of the pain?"

"Where I broke my leg before."

He looked between Alex's right and left leg comparing their size. "It doesn't seem very swollen."

Alex shrugged. "It doesn't matter anyway, I'm not going to hospital till we get him back."

Vy nodded and stood up turning back to Wilson as if he'd forgotten he was there. "I thought I hadn't left you a lot of time."

He nodded. "Right, sorry."

"Get him some… what's it called…" He huffed. "Tubigrip?"

"That stuff's pretty useless." Alex said churlishly.

"It'll help keep your leg warm."

"Oh, right." He nodded, Russia was going to be far colder than London. His time in Egypt had made him forget how his leg ached in the cold normally even without the new injury. "Where are the towels?"

"Bathroom probably."

Finding the towels on the back of the door, Alex stepped into the shower groping for the detachment he'd briefly found in Cairo, the clear objective he'd had: To not die, to get revenge, to find Yassen's body. Now it was find Yassen, save Yassen. Float for a brief time on top of the horror, the grief, the crippling worry and the fear that that the final thing he had to live for might be snatched away before he could reach it.

Keep it together.


	48. Kolyma

Yassen sat in the corner of his cell, arms resting on his knees, staring at the floor. At first they'd been predictably sadistic with him, hanging him from the ceiling for a few hours until he thought his shoulder might dislocate, then stripping him and leaving him on the freezing concrete. Their superior had stepped in after a time, saying he wasn't here to be tortured he was here to wait.

Wait.

He'd have taken the torture more easily than this, a beating would have possibly made him feel better than the twisting in his stomach that came from fear. At least wouldn't feel so helpless; He'd have been able to take the pain, possibly used it as an opportunity to escape. As it was they'd been far too careful with him, three men in the room at all times two with guns and the other unarmed to make him do what they wanted.

His mind went around in circles. Was Alex okay? Had Vy managed to save him? Was Vy okay? If Vy couldn't get there to save him would he survive as he had done so many times before? Was he okay?

He had to survive, if he didn't it just wouldn't be… Wouldn't be what? Fair? Since when had life been fair to him? Yassen had had shit thrown at him by life since he was four. His parents, the life on the street, Golgstein, John… Not Alex too, used as ammunition by the sadistic shit upstairs. Please.

It just wouldn't be fair.

He'd been through the bargaining stage already, found himself offering all kinds of things to something he didn't really believe in to let Alex live. He'd never kill anyone again, he'd stay in here for the rest of his life, he'd give his life. He hadn't got a response but then what kind an assassin gets an answer from God, even supposing he did exist.

How long had he been in here? Impossible to know, the fluorescent light was the only light and they'd taken his watch. He'd slept twice through exhaustion but that was no indicator, he hadn't wanted to sleep and his body clock was confused anyway. When he started to get stiff he did exercises, push ups, sit ups, the plank. They'd fed him three times, given him water eight times but the timings were intermittent and meant nothing.

"How long?" He asked the cell, his voice came back to him. "I suppose it means he's not dead yet."

Another period of silence, thoughts going round and round and he did another fifty push ups and sit ups. Then went through a sequence of jujitstu, and then all the moves he knew, holding them for double the time.

The footsteps broke the Do-san Hyeong, he cocked his head to the side. More than three footsteps, four perhaps? A heavy clang as the draw was slid across, he backed from the door so that they'd open it and saw the same three men who entered the room two guns aimed at him.

"Your knees." The third said. "Now!"

He did as he was told and as the man moved to twist his arms behind his back he revealed Vyacheslav in the doorway dressed in FSB uniform. Vy was here? Where was Alex?

"Tell me he's alive." He said. "Please."

The man behind him laughed, probably amused that he was seeking pity from someone who presumably worked for scorpia.

Vyacheslav just stood there. "Are you going to be a problem?"

What kind of game was he playing? Was Alex alive? "Tell me!"

"You have him secure?" Vyacheslav asked the man behind him.

"Yes sir."

"Then leave, your services are no longer required, your payment is waiting in the bunkhouse."

"I was told to await direct orders from Razim."

"I know." Vy stared him down. "And that is where I got my orders, take your money and leave."

"You two go, I'll see this through if you don't mind sir. He killed a friend of mine and if he dies I want to see it."

"I suppose."

The two men with guns left, the third stayed and took one of the two's guns.

"Now as I see it Yassen, you have two options: you work for us or you die."

With a great effort Yassen kept his voice neutral. "Just tell me."

"It is your choice."

"Is he dead?"

Someone moved behind Vy, he motioned violently and they stopped. Yassen stared intently at Vy trying to figure it all out, not daring to hope.

"Just pick one you shit, so I kill you." The man kicked him in the small of his back and he fell forwards. There were footsteps then and he had just enough time to glimpse Alex before he floored the other man. He laughed, smile bright on his face for all of five seconds as he saw him punch him in the head once and then twice. His heart swelled in his chest and there was a dizzying sense of relief. Then his smile faded as he saw Alex's face was an expression of intense pain and that he was beating the man senseless. Punch after punch in the face.

"Get me out of these cuffs."

Vy hastened to help him, finding the keys on the floor.

"Hurry up." As soon as they were off he dashed to him catching him in his arms starting a monologue of alex's and calm downs, he fought him landing just one more punch to the man's nose. The cartilage gave, disappearing into his face and Alex screamed at the bloody mess.

"Never!"

Then he collapsed against him panting, face blank. Yassen hands stroked over his chest and his arms held him as he pressed kisses to his neck. He didn't respond.

"We need to go Yassen."

"In a minute."

"No, right now. Deal with _that_ in a minute."

"Why?"

"Because in two minutes this place will be a crater."

Yassen got up, pulling Alex with him and he stumbled beside him as they took other exit out and made a run for a helicopter. They got in slammed the door and the pilot took off just as the men who had been waiting for the third man realised something wasn't right and ran outside. The blast caught them and set them on fire but Yassen didn't see, he was trying to get a response out of Alex but nothing was working. The spy just held onto his arm staring at the floor as if behind his eyes he wasn't there. Maybe he wasn't.

With the door shut he could hear Vy without the headphones, Yassen was glad; he couldn't have put them on one-handed.

"Has he been like this for the whole time?"

"No, he's been quiet but not like this." He leant forwards and leant on his knees. "But he hasn't slept."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that now that I think about it he hasn't slept, not for days."

"How long was I in there?"

"A week, I think."

"What's the day?"

"Sunday."

"A week…" Yassen pulled the fur hat off Alex's head and pressed a kiss to his scalp and he tried to move his arm so he could wrap it around him. He let him, arms coming around his chest but said nothing. "Better?" he asked.

No response.

"It's okay." He murmured running his fingers over his blank face, over the bruised eye and kissing it softly. "It's going to be okay."

He spoke softly to him, words into his hair and neck. Calming and reassuring. Vy stared at the two of them, watching Yassen try and sooth the boy and provoke a response but there was nothing. It was like he'd completely shut down and it looked like the state scared Yassen, his eyes were wide with concern.

"Perhaps he's in shock."

Yassen wasn't reassured. "People die of shock."

"That boy will not die," Vy said. "Half the world's criminals can attest to that."

"Where did you leave Jack?" Yassen asked.

"Yassen, Jack's dead. They killed her in front of him."

The assassin looked down at the boy and stroked his head, fingers running through his hair. "I'm so sorry Alex."


	49. Moscow

They touched down in Vitim two hours later and got on a private plane. Yassen walked with Alex across the tarmac of the landing pad and up the steps into the cabin of the leer-jet sitting down with him in the squishy seats. There was still no response from him other than his unwillingness to let him go.

Vy sat opposite again, he looked shattered.

"Where are we going?"

"Moscow, I've got a flat there."

"How long is the flight?"

"Five hours."

"May I get any of you a drink?" the hostess asked.

"Just some water please." Vy said "And then leave us."

She brought back three bottles and then went into the forward cabin and closed the door.

The cabin consisted of six aeroplane seats for take off and landing and behind those was a long couch on one wall and a set of arm chairs on the other.

"Come sit back here it's more comfortable." Vy said with a yawn and went to sit on the couch, yassen sat beside him with Alex curled to his side and rested his head on top of Alex's. For a while they just sat dazed until Yassen found the presence of mind to ask:

"Do you have any plans for once we get to Moscow?"

Vy didn't answer and when he looked at him he found he'd fallen asleep, he slipped his other arm around him and pulled him close so his head was on his shoulder. He cracked open one eye and then accepted it and relaxed.

"You don't know what I had to go through." He murmured. "I nearly drowned."

"When?"

"In Tunisia… I had to swim to the mainland."

"How far was it?"

"I have no idea, but I swam for hours."

"I shouldn't have walked into that trap,"

"No way you could have known." Vy murmured and went silent.

The air-hostess poked her head in after two hours. Yassen looked questioning at her, Vy was fast asleep on his shoulder. She made the okay symbol and he nodded. Then she said softly:

"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?"

"Actually." Yassen nodded. "Whatever you have, I don't mind."

Vy blinked himself awake as she shut the door and then started looking around as if he didn't quite know where he was for a moment before catching sight of yassen and breathing a sigh of relief. He sat back against his side.

"You know you don't smell too bad considering…"

Yassen laughed softly. "I cant wait to get in a shower." He stroked Alex's head and kissed the top of it. "What's happening once we get to Moscow?"

"There's a flat, I don't use it much but it'll do till we get new IDs. It'll be cold though… Heating's off."

"Hot water?"

"Centralised, you can stand in the shower for as long as you like."

"Is it big or small?"

"Small. But there's a big bed… With a thick feather duvet on it…" He closed his eyes with a sigh. "How long to go?"

"Hour and a half, two hours…"

"Has he said anything?"

"He's the same."

Vy lifted his head and looked at Alex, curled against Yassen's other side staring at the opposite wall. "He's probably just shut down for a while, I used to do that sometimes…"

"For how long?"

"Depends…" Vy's voice was quiet. "Sometimes he used to beat me out of it and other times he'd just... I used to come to in the dark not knowing how much time had passed."

"I don't know how you survived." Yassen murmured.

"I was waiting for you to come back… And the couple of times I tried to end it he stopped me."

Yassen's arm tightened around him. "You've never told me _that_…"

"Tried to hang myself with the bed sheets a couple of times, he always caught me in the act… He took the light fittings out and made me sit in the dark when he wasn't there until I begged him to put them back in. I think that was the closest I ever got to giving up, to believing it would never end." He shook his head. "But then you came and I didn't want to believe it in case I was hallucinating…"

"I took my time with him you know…" Yassen said. "I mean… I _really_ took my time."

"I wish you'd taken me with you… I wish I could have seen him die… Sometimes I find myself wondering if I'll run into him and if I hear a German accent then I always turn and see who it is."

"I can tell you how I killed him."

"How?"

"After I'd finished with everything else I got the fire poker he'd hit me with earlier and drove it into his guts and turned it every thirty seconds till he bled out."

"Why every thirty seconds?"

"So I could hear him beg in between."

"How long did he last?"

"Fifteen minutes, I avoided the arteries. How would you have done it?

Vy was silent for a while and then said evenly. "I would have locked him in the basement with food and water, taken all the light-bulbs and listened to him go insane."

* * *

><p>When they landed in Moscow a customs official visited them on the plane. Vy handed him three passports and when he stared at Alex he took him aside for a few quiet words. When he left the official gave him a pitying nod, Vy shrugged.<p>

"There's a car waiting, let's go."

"What did you tell him?"

"A partial truth."

The driver of the car threw Vy the keys and began to walk back towards the airport, they got in and made their way out of the airport showing their stamped passports at the gate.

"Not long now." Yassen said to Alex hoping it might trigger something but he stayed irresponsive.

The roads were deserted it being almost midnight, Vy drove south towards the centre of the city and took one of the roads that followed the river. Snow was piled high on either side of the road and the temperature registered minus ten on the dashboard. The river was frozen, Yassen couldn't work out which one it was. After a while landmarks began to register.

"Are we near the Kremlin?"

"Yes." He turned over a bridge and then another before turning down a side street and pulling up in a designated space.

"Here?" Yassen asked.

"Yeah."

"I could spit at Putin."

"I know." Vy got out and stretched rubbing his hands together before heading for the front door.

Yassen followed Alex still snug against his side and moments later they were in a cold flat on the third floor looking over the Vadootvodnyy canal.

"Right." Vy went to the boiler in a cupboard by the door and began fiddling with it. "Heating is… on. Water should already be hot."

He went to the fridge and opened it finding it empty and warm, he turned it on at the switch.

"How long can we stay?"

"A couple of weeks, no more than a month and only if we're very careful."

Alex moved against his side and yassen looked down at him, he was frowning arms dropping from around his torso. Then he took his hand and squeezed it before taking a step towards the bathroom and tugging gently at his hand.

"You should think about where you want to go after that." Vy was checking the water. "Any ideas?"

Alex was leading him very slowly towards the bathroom, still looking lost but more aware than before.

"Yassen?"

Vy turned but Yassen's attention was solely on Alex. He called his name softly but there was still no response. He turned in the doorway and fixed his gaze on his chest laying his hands just below his shoulders.

"Alex look at me."

He didn't lift his gaze instead finding the top button of his shirt and undoing it. Murmuring something incomprehensible he continued, at first steadily but then his hands began to shake. Yassen took his wrists.

"Alex?"

His whole body was shaking and as he finally looked up at him his knees buckled, the assassin dropped with him holding him firmly.

"Yassen?" his voice was tiny. "Where am I?"

"It's okay. You're safe."

"What's going on?" He was looking around holding onto Yassen like a dead switch. "What's- Oh." Confusion turned to horror and he began to hyperventilate. "Oh god."

"Alex…"

"No, no, no… Jack… I knew it… Her father…"

Yassen pulled him close and he buried his face in his shirt. "Shh…"

"My fault…"

He could barely hear the words he was gasping through thick sobs that shook his entire body. He tried to hold him, rocking slowly backwards and forwards running his hands up and down his back. Whispering meaningless words into his hair.

"I thought you were dead."

"Hey… I'm right here." He kissed his neck and pulled him fully into his lap. "Can't kill me."

"They showed me it… I thought I was alone." He squeezed him hard. "I'm sorry… I should never have gone out there."

"It's not your fault Alex."

"Yes it is… I told her to try and get out the window." He got worse again and Yassen went back to holding him for what seemed like hours. Vy had gone, possibly to get some food. He stared out the window at the dark sky and the white city. It began to snow as he sat there with Alex falling to pieces in his arms.

How could he ever have found this amusing? To push him till he broke like he had on the sofa in Ian's house… The way he'd planned that encounter to put as much strain on Alex as possible so he could see him crack and possibly so he could hold him afterwards. And all of that made forgivable just because he'd given Alex what belonged to him to start with.

After a long time he went still with the occasional hiccup and sniff, he lay exhausted against his chest with his eyes closed. Slowly he lifted his head and wiped his eyes and nose on his sleeve. Yassen caught the rest of his tears with the pads of his thumbs and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. He pulled a face.

"I'm all…"

"Beautiful?"

He choked out a bark of laughter. "How did I get here?"

"You walked… But it was like you weren't there, like you were sleepwalking."

"So where are we?"

"Moscow."

"I don't remember a thing."

"I was worried you might not come out of it."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, you're okay."

Alex yawned and after his eyelids sunk. He rested his head on Yassen's shoulder and then smelt him.

"That's probably not a good idea."

"Mnn no..."

"You go to bed. I'll be two minutes in the shower."

Alex blinked his eyes open and yawned again before getting to his knees and then to his feet with a wince, Yassen followed and started dropping his clothes to the floor. Turning the bath-shower on.

Alex leant against the wall and watched him as he stepped into the bath and covered himself in shower gel. He ached horribly all up his right side and his eye was swollen and black with yellow around the outside. Rubbing his right leg he watched as Yassen washed the foam from his body and planted his forearms against the wall head bent against the spray before turning and looking his way, he smiled at him and Alex sent a half smile back.

"Who did that to your eye?"

"Serin." Alex shook his head. "Well not really Serin…"

"He was working for them?"

"I think they manipulated him. He didn't handle coming back from Libya well. I think he fixated on me and when I started ignoring him he went off the rails."

"Meaning?"

"He was the one who told them about us, he's the reason you got locked up."

"And Vy saved his life…"

"He also took it. I was…" Alex took a deep breath and tried again. "I was by the car just- kn-kneeling there and he tried to kill me but Vy shot him. He saved my life twice."

"We don't have to talk about this now."

Alex nodded and put the cover down on the toilet before sitting down with a wince.

"Are you hurt elsewhere?"

"You haven't seen the half of it."

Yassen went to get out of the shower but Alex held up his hand. "Don't, just give me a second and I'll join you."

He stood and began to undo the buttons on his FSB uniform

"Fuck."

Yassen's eyes trailed over Alex's body as he undressed taking in all the bruises and scratches, the welts and cuts.

"It looks worse than it is."

He ran his fingers over his shoulder leaving a trail of water droplets. Alex shivered.

"I need some help."

Yassen stepped back and offered a hand, helping him step into the bath and wrapping his arms carefully around him before pulling the shower curtain across.

"Where does it hurt most?"

"Where I shot myself."

"Is it just bruising?"

"I think so."

Yassen picked up the shower gel and angled the stream of water at the wall while he worked up a lather between his hands and then gently rubbed it into his skin. Normaly the feel of Yassen's hands on his skin would have had him hard in seconds but the combination of the freezing air in the flat and his bone aching weariness had him leaning his shoulders and head against the wall and his eyes slipped closed.

The assassin pulled him gently against him and turned the showerhead back dousing them both with hot water. Alex looked up at him once the shower gel was washed off and framed his face in his hands eyes as wide as a puppy's, well one eye.

"Kiss me?"

His skin was pleasantly slippery as Yassen held him close and kissed him. It was almost careful the way he sucked on his bottom lip and just breathed the same air as him, one hand spread over his lower back and the other between his shoulder blades. Alex ran his hands down his neck, over his shoulders and then his biceps before wrapping his arms around his neck.

"Let's go to bed." Yassen said.

Alex nodded and he turned the water off, stepping out the shower. The two of them were shivering as they towelled off and curled together for warmth when they slipped between the cold sheets. The feather duvet really was thick and warmed quickly.

Alex's eyes felt swollen with tiredness and his head ached from crying. Every time he moved something panged or protested but worst of all was the terrible wrenching of guilt and sorrow deep in his chest.

"I should have come with you when you asked me."

Yassen kissed his bruised eye gently. "You might have done had I not surprised you with it."

A tear escaped Alex's eye being absorbed into the pillow. Yassen pulled him closer.

"Close your eyes and try not to think, just sleep."

"I…" Alex sniffed. "I'm so glad you're okay."


	50. Pelmeshka Kafe

**bad editing on my part, second half of the chapter is different!**

* * *

><p>Dawn crept late and grey over Moscow, Vy stood in the kitchen looking over the frozen canal. Looking behind him Yassen put some boxers on and made sure that Alex was truly still asleep before going into the kitchen and closing the door behind him. Vy turned slightly and looked him over.<p>

"You look a lot better."

"Did you sleep?"

"You were too out of it to notice."

"Is there anything to eat? I'm starving." Yassen stretched, muscles shivering under his skin and yawned.

"Bacon, sausages, bread in the cupboard and tomato sauce in the fridge."

Yassen smiled and drew him into a hug one arm around his waist the other rubbing between his shoulder blades. He breathed into his hair squeezing him tight. Vy's hands were awkward against his bare skin still warm from bed but he returned it, lightly resting his hands on his back till he let him go.

"How is he?"

"A bit of a wreck…" Yassen put a pan on the stove and stabbed the packaging on the bacon and then sausages with a knife.

"In more ways than one." Vy finished. "Have you thought about what you're going to do with him?"

"_Do_ with him?" Yassen raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Where's he going to go?"

Yassen put the sausages and bacon in the pan and turned to Vy. "He's staying with me."

"You aren't serious."

Again an eyebrow as the meat begins to sizzle behind him. "Perfectly serious."

"You're going to take him on Jobs?"

"No. I have enough money… I'm going to give it up."

Vy just stared at him. "Give it up?"

"Yes. What did you think I was going to do?"

"I thought.. I thought you were going to get him somewhere safe…"

"And visit him like a mistress?" Yassen looked amused at the thought and then laughed out loud. "He'd probably murder me for that."

"So you're going to live together?"

"I certainly hope so…" Yassen's eyes went distant for a moment and then he smiled and turned back to the pan turning the bacon and reaching for the kettle.

Vy sat down at the table. "Where?"

"I don't know, there's obviously some things that need sorting out first…"

"Have you asked him what _he_ wants."

Yassen faced him. "You think he may not want to?"

"He will never have a normal life with you, you'll never be able to be openly together. You may even have to pretend to be his father if you go into hiding. Of course the criminal world knows differently… MI6 i'm not sure about yet but all the major underworld figures are definitely aware that your… together. A death throe of Scorpia…"

Yassen scratched his head. "Just how much danger are we in?"

"You'd be in less if you separated…"

The assassin just shook his head.

"Well anyone fixated on revenge. On you _or _him… He's got nearly as many enemies as you." Vy's phone rang. "It's Wilson…"

"Take it…"

"Wilson?"

"_Hello, are you in Moscow still?"_

"Yes."

_"So am I. I'd like to talk to you about something."_

"So speak, it's a secure line."

_"In person. Can I meet you?"_

"I suppose. Where?"

"_I'm at that flat by the red square."_

Vy hung up and swore. "He's here… Fuck."

He hurried to the front door just as Wilson put his key in the door. He opened it and grabbed his coat in one hand and almost manhandled the man back through the door closing it behind him.

"Let's go. I need some coffee."

Yassen woke Alex with a gentle shake and a cup of tea. He went to stretch and then gasped in pain and moaned.

"I hurt _everywhere_." Then after he'd taken a gulp of tea he sniffed. "Is that bacon?"

"and sausages."

He smiled a little and put down the tea on the bedside table before pulling Yassen down for a kiss. The assassin smiled into it and ran his hand lightly over Alex's shoulder before pulling away.

"They'll burn…" He went back into the kitchen.

Alex swung his legs over the side of the bed with difficulty and stood following Yassen at a considerably slower pace with a long stop by the chest of drawers to negotiate putting a tee-shirt and boxers on.

"Where's…" Alex remembered not to say his name in case he was around. "Lemur?"

"Vy's with Wilson, he works for him." Yassen put a bacon and sausage sandwich in front of him.

"That looks amazing." Alex picked it up and took a huge bite out of it, then said nothing till he'd finished it and licked the fat from his fingers. Then he looked up and felt his heart almost stop; he'd expected to see Jack.

He sat staring at the plate for a moment before mumbling. "This doesn't feel real."

Yassen bit the inside of his lip and was just about to reach for his hand when Alex got up and took both their plates to the sink running the water. He watched him for a second and then joined him picking up the tea-towel and drying the dishes and cutlery he handed him.

Alex rinsed his hands under the tap for a long time before turning it off. Yassen took his wet hands in the tea-towel and dried them for him moving the cloth gently over his fingers and palms and then even more softly over the healing cuts on his knuckles and wrists. Alex gripped his hands when he went to put it aside and leant his head against his chest.

Yassen squeezed his hands gently and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. After a few moments he let go of his hands and wrapped his arms around him. Now was not the time to ask him what he wanted to do; he was shook to pieces. That could wait.

* * *

><p>Vy surreptitiously checked the gun in the back of his trousers as he sat down opposite Wilson in the café taking a sip of his espresso and focusing on the American in front of him. If he even was American. He waited for him to speak.<p>

"I met an old friend of mine last night, he's a member of the Russian mob."

"And?"

"And he told me that the mob, the triads and the Yakuza are attempting to… liase to all their advantage on a particular endeavour."

Wilson was nervous, his adam's apple bobbed as he took a swallow of his coffee.

"It must be a big operation."

"It is. They want to assassinate Putin and use the resulting Chaos to achieve something."

"Who are they using for the hit?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. They want to use Gregorovich."

"Really?" Vy said impassively.

"Only, after the recent developments with Scorpia they aren't sure how to contact him. You could say that he has very many people on the back foot. Him and the boy."

"I assume they're offering a very large sum of money."

"Yes, but I wondered if…" He took another swallow of coffee. "If you might speak to him about another price, money of course but also some form of protection. If the rumours are to be believed then he and the boy are… involved. That would set most of the world against them."

"True enough, but why tell me?"

"I was under the impression that you were friendly with him."

Vyacheslav's throat went tight and his heart began to race. He'd always sought to distance himself in public view from Yassen, an attempt to hide the last link remaining between the shadowy man he was now and his past. The thought of anyone finding out what had happened to him when he was young made him feel sick, a rising sensation of powerless left him speechless for a moment before he pushed it back down. He couldn't trust Wilson with the knowledge that he and Yassen were friends, no one was trustworthy enough to know that except Alex who hadn't the resources to do any digging.

He'd probably have to kill him.

"I informed my friend that seeing as your network was probably the best in the world you may be able to find him and approach him with the proposition. You might want to do it through a third person of course to avoid making any public link between yourself and Gregorovich."

"Of course." He agreed. "Did he give you any idea about when he might contact me?"

"Within the next few days." Wilson finished his coffee and stared at the table for a second before looking up at him and simply saying. "I've known for nearly a year, there's no need to have me thrown in the nearest canal - I have no intention of delving into your past."

"Why not?"

"As I said earlier, the boy and Gregorovich together has many people on the back foot. The alliance of the boy, Gregorovich _and_ you makes me uneasy at the very least about doing something to piss you off." He stood and put some money on the table. "But I've stuck my neck out anyway and now I'm just hoping that I'm useful enough to you that you won't immediately cut my head off."


	51. Pelmeshka Kafe pt 2

Vyacheslav entered the flat and closed the door behind him leaning against it for a moment. He could hear Alex and Yassen in the kitchen discussing something and after a moment joined them. Alex was sat on the kitchen table in a jumper and his boxers with Yassen's hands on his injured leg just above his knee.

"It hurts but not _that_ badly…" Alex said wincing and then looking at Vy. "Morning."

Yassen turned his head and smiled. "You know that physiotherapist I saw after I dislocated my shoulder?"

"Yes."

"What do you think about Alex going to see him?"

"I don't know." He pulled a chair out from beneath the table and sat down staring out the window.

"What's wrong?" Yassen asked.

Vy shook his head. "I don't know about the physio… I suppose there's no reason that he would talk to anyone. Is it that bad?"

"It's his shoulder, I think he's done something to it."

"When the ropebridge snapped…" Alex supplied.

"I actually thought you would have broken something."

"Well…" The assassin began.

"My leg isn't broken Yassen." Alex cut in.

"We can't risk a hospital anyway." Vy said. "And I have something else I need to talk to you about."

Yassen turned, hand still resting on Alex's skin. It was so easy for them… fingers resting on skin, feather light, relaxed. Comforting.

"Wilson knows we're friends. Says he's known for a year."

"Shit." Yassen ran his hand through his hair. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I really don't know." That choking powerless feeling had begun to rise up into his throat, he swallowed once and then again but it did nothing. His hands were shaking. He got up. "I need to think."

He walked through into the bedroom, heart rattling in his chest and his breath speeding up. Wilson could already know…

"Calm down…" Yassen turned him around and pulled him into a hug. "It's okay…"

"I can't… No one can know…"

* * *

><p>Alex stared at the two of them for a moment. It was strange to see Yassen hugging someone… Wrong even. He'd never seen him interact physically with anyone but him before. Vy was shaking, muttering in Russian into the front of Yassen's shirt while his hands fisted in the material at the back. It was uncomfortably intimate to watch and Alex threw on clothes quickly, nkvd hat and jacket the last to go on. He was out the door and ripping the badges off the coat and hat while he limped down the stairs.<p>

"Christ."

The temperature was a proverbial kick in the bollocks. It took him a couple of seconds to remember how to breathe, then he wedged his hat on his head, buried his face in his collar and hunched his shoulders against the icy breeze.

Walking out of the courtyard Alex turned right towards the canal and, pulling his hat down lower over his face wandered a little way along it before wrapping his coat around himself and staring out over its frozen surface with his good eye. He wondered what was going on…

Wilson had to be the man that Vy was working with in Egypt… Dark, if he remembered, with a Mediterranean look to him. The fact that he knew that Vy and Yassen were friends was obviously a problem, though he couldn't see how… It obviously had more to do with the threat to Shadowy persona that the intelligence expert had cultivated than to Yassen. The question was what was he hiding? _I found out that he'd… Well I never thought he'd forgive me, I still don't think he has…_

Alex was at a loss… Yassen had left Vy in Moscow when he'd been recruited to Scorpia and something had happened… Something that Yassen felt he was to blame for. He was missing something.

"Hello kid."

Alex jumped and then instantly regretted going out, it was Wilson. He leant against the railing beside him and his heart began hammering in his chest.

"You ought to be careful leaving the apartment… this is a bit close to the Kremlin for a face as famous as yours."

"I guess."

"I suppose they're discussing whether or not to kill me."

"I don't speak Russian." His teeth had begun to chatter.

"Are you cold?"

"I'm not used to it."

"Come… I'll buy you a drink." He turned from the canal.

"Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"Far from it… You've proved yourself an intelligent resourceful dangerous individual, what could I do to you?"

Alex looked at him; there was none of Yassen's easy, powerful grace and he didn't seem as cold as Vyacheslav. "You could drug me."

"And what good would it do me? I want an alliance with Fonetico not his animosity."

"He hates me…"

"But Yassen is his best friend… Come on, a coffee… It's cold out here."

Entirely against his better judgement Alex checked that his father's knife was indeed in his pocket and followed him.

The cafe was retro with yellow tables and orange plastic seats, they took one by the window. Alex checked the other coffee drinkers surreptitiously. The two teenagers, the only other customers, seemed far too into their loud conversation to be listening in. Remembering the bar where Yassen had been taken he kept his hand on his knife regardless.

"So… Don't you have an input in their conversation?"

"I don't speak Russian." Alex repeated. "Are you Spanish?"

"No, I just like the word fonetico… I have to call him _something_."

"I don't know his name if that's what you want." Alex said.

"I wasn't going to ask… It'd be nice to know I admit but I doubt that will happen."

"So you want an alliance?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

He sighed. "Because I'm sick of working for someone else, having to do what they say."

"Me too." Alex studied him. "Some risk you're taking though… I've never met anyone so cold in my life."

"That's true, we watched someone being tortured once… Not even a flinch, he wasn't enjoying it... It's more like the link between action and emotion's been cut."

"So why now? It's hardly the best time…"

"Au contraire. Now is perfect… there's something only I can help him with, well help him and Yassen."

"What is it?"

He looked surprised. "A hit."

"For Yassen?"

"Yes. Didn't he tell you?"

"I left."

"Ah." He smiled a little, face too drawn with anxiety for it to be anything more than a stretched grimace. "Why?"

"I needed some air."

"Right. Now that you know you don't want to weigh in on the discussion?"

Not if Vyacheslav was still a shaking mess in Yassen's arms… the whole image was so wrong he couldn't get his head around it. "I trust Yassen to represent my interests."

"Which would be?"

"None of your business. Who's the hit?"

"Putin."

His heart thumped in his chest as adrenaline flooded his system. It was bizarre how one word could send so much fear slamming through his body.

"For what?"

"Protection for the two of you and money."

"It's suicide." The words popped out of his mouth before he could recall them and suddenly he wanted to be back in the apartment.

"Not with good planning."

Yassen wouldn't be that stupid… Surely. But then how had he expected this to work? He knew with a sudden overwhelming wave of self-ridicule that he'd unconsciously been expecting Yassen get a normal job and maybe he'd go back to school. A void of uncertainty opened up in his mind that abruptly became a huge crack to which all his thoughts were drawn to. A blind, consuming panic filled him.

Jesus. What the fuck were they going to do? An assassin and a spy… The world wasn't a big enough place to hide from all the people that wanted them.

"Are you alright?"

His breath was coming short in his chest, he fought with it and succeeded in reducing it down.

"I'm fine."

"What do you want?"

"Sorry?"

"What coffee do you want?"

Alex stared at him, then at the waitress and got up. "Got to go."

"Wait. Take this." He held out a memory stick. "There's something for all of you on there."

"Right."

He left without a further word and limped a shambling run back to the apartment, he almost collided with Yassen on the stairs.

"Where have you been?"

He just stared at him. "What are we going to do?"

"Did anyone see you?"

"I mean it… What are we going to do? I can't go back… I can't, and we can't and… Christ. Do you have a plan? What was your plan if I had come with you?" he leant against the wall. "How can I only be thinking about this _now_?"

Yassen wrapped his arms around him. "Calm down."

"How? How can you be calm?"

"Do you want to be with me?"

Alex was vividly reminded of a street corner that, while not so long ago, felt a million miles away. He stared up at Yassen, a killer, a man double his age and the only person he had left in the world. He was never one to make the same mistake twice. "Yes."

"Then everything else is secondary."

And he kissed him.


	52. Flat 3a Ruskova Nigts

**Spent an hour looking through the beta readers for this fandom and couldn't find one that I liked. If any of you out there would honor me with their interest PM me?**

* * *

><p>Vy stared at the slit of light from the darkness. It was like he was inside one of those English post boxes. The idea of it appealed; being able to see without being seen, the goal of his life. Perhaps there was something in those niqabs that some Muslim women wore, they certainly afforded a complete detachment from the world, constantly an outside opinion. No direct experience.<p>

For now pushed up against the wall underneath the bed was going to have to do. It helped him think. It wasn't like he felt safe, he never did, it just gave him a sort of clarity to narrow down reality to a slit two foot wide. He'd tried sitting in a cupboard at Malagosto but it was too dark, he'd felt like he was back in the cellar with the lights out. Under the bed was best, even if it was a cliché place to hide from the world.

Yassen had gone to find Alex. Probably a good idea, the boy had no idea where he was and with his luck he'd likely run into a Russian spy by accident. Loosing him at this point would be plain stupid after all they'd been through.

As for what he was going to do… His heart leapt in his chest again and he took a deep breath to fight the panic. A decision to make, whether to trust Wilson or not… The truth was of course that at this point in time, when he need the network the most to try and keep Yassen and Alex alive, he couldn't afford to loose the man… He simply couldn't be everywhere at once and maintaining agents all over the world was impossible without another pair of hands.

Then there was the assassination… Wilson obviously knew some of the people involved better than he did which would be invaluable during any negotiations if Yassen decided to take it, and the more Vy thought about it the more he realised that the assassination might be the only way the two outcasts could survive. Making a quick list of their enemies he swallowed, Alex alone was wanted by several different criminal organisations along with the ASIS, MI6 the CIA… The triads, the mob and the Yakuza united could be the only force strong enough to back them.

The door opened and Yassen came back followed by Alex's limping step.

"Where is he?"

Yassen was silent for a second and Vy found himself holding his breath. "He's thinking."

"So he's gone out?"

"Not necessarily…"

"Is he in a cupboard or something?"

"Perhaps…" He saw Yassen turn to Alex and guessed that he took his hand pulling him into the kitchen. After a moment Vy realised that he'd done it so that he could come out without looking stupid in front of Alex. He was grateful, he didn't think he could handle that raised eyebrow and a sarcastic comment right this moment without hitting the boy.

It took some effort of will to pull himself from beneath the bed and straighten himself out, washing his face in the bathroom and rubbing at the dark circles under his eyes and his blotchy eyelids. His headache from crying had already begun to fade and he felt empty, a still pool with the panic and fear hidden beneath the surface. Looking into his own dark eyes he came to a decision.

He'd have to trust Wilson for the moment, or at least let him live while he trained a suitable replacement. During that time he could help with the negotiation of the terms of Putin's assassination and once it was done he could be removed. With the plan came even more calm till his eyes were void of emotion, dead dark pools of impenetrable depth.

* * *

><p>The change in Vyacheslav was more than marked as he came into the kitchen. He was pale but his face was set and nothing showed through the mask he'd put on. Yassen rubbed at the back of Alex's neck, fingers running through the soft blond hair, as much as it was meant to comfort Alex it probably had a greater effect on his own nerves.<p>

"Do you want to take the hit?"

"If you think the protection's worth it."

"Then we need to make plans. Starting with getting out of Moscow today."

"So you've made a decision then?"

"He can live till I find a replacement and the hit's over. I think he knows much more about the people involved… It's always good to know who you're dealing with."

"You're sure?" Yassen asked him.

"Yes. I'll ring him now."

He went out to make the phone call and Yassen looked at Alex, he was frowning.

"What happened to the case of DVDs that I had with me?"

"What case of DVDs?"

His face lost all colour and he slipped off the table following Vy into the bedroom. He was just finishing his phone call.

"What happened to the DVD case I had?"

"Erm…" he scratched his head. "It's around somewhere."

"Where?"

"I don't know… It's probably in your bag in the car."

"Keys?"

He sighed and looked around. "In my coat."

Grabbing his coat he patted down the pockets grabbed the keys and flew down the stairs as fast as his injured leg would carry him. Yassen looked questioningly at Vy.

"What's so important?"

"I don't know."

"Are you alright?"

He nodded coldly. "Fine if we can just play this right."

Studying him, with his stiff expression Yassen put an arm around his shoulders and kissed him on the forehead. "It'll be alright…" Vy turned and wrapped his arms around him briefly before letting go and stepping away. "You know it'll be alright."

"Pollok always told me I could never know anything for sure."

"There's always me."

"There_ is_ always you…" He half-smiled and turned to face the door at the two sets of footsteps that were coming up the stairs. "If I get even the vaguest idea that this is dodgy you aren't doing it."

"Agreed."

"I mean it Yassen. This is going to be the most dangerous thing you've ever done and if even the smallest thing is out of place I'm pulling you out."

Before Yassen could answer him Wilson opened the door with Alex in tow clutching his bag and a black CD case. He put them down on the bed and watched as Wilson and Vy eyed each other then Vy went into the kitchen and Wilson followed giving Yassen a wide berth.

"What's in the case?" Yassen asked softly.

Alex got up and crossed to him. "I'll tell you later." His fingers brushed over his abdomen above his belt and he leant down and drew him into a short kiss.

"Alright, later." He pulled him back for another and whispered. "Keep an eye on Wilson."

"Okay."

They went into the kitchen finding Vy leant against the counter and Wilson sat at the table.

"Right, I take it that you want to do it?"

"What would they offer me?"

"I heard ten million plus protection, you could probably push for twelve."

He saw Alex swallow, he hadn't told him yet that he'd already accumulated seventy million. They still needed to have that conversation… He'd been too panicked on the stairs. After this… Yassen sighed as he realised he was putting off doing it, scared that Alex wouldn't agree with his plan, wouldn't want to go with him.

"Course you probably wouldn't ever be able to work again…"

"That wouldn't be a problem. Who would I be negotiating with?"

"Well… the three men in charge are Ning, Watashi and Sukachevsky."

Yassen suppressed the urge to look at Vy. "Yuri Johanavich Sukachevsky?"

"Yeah, you know him?"

"I know him. He owes me a favour."

"Why's that?"

"Killed someone for him. He must be getting on…"

"Yeah, eighty something now… He went blind a couple of years ago."

"What about the other two?"

"Well Watashi and Ning are both pretty level headed and smart. I don't think any of the higher ups are taking any chances with any loose cannons. They're dangerous though, Watashi killed his own son recently for stepping out of line and Ning is one of the old school triads Death before dishonour to the clan."

"What are they hoping to achieve?"

"I don't know yet, their chosen men are very watertight."

Yassen nodded. "That's not a bad thing."

"I gave Alex a Memory stick it has some Intel on Putin." He turned to Vy. "Chernova could probably get his itinery if you think you can trust her…"

Vy nodded.

"I have a car too… You said St. Petersburg…"

Yassen swallowed. "Sorry?"

"I thought St. Petersburg would be good, far enough but not too far." Vy explained.

"I suppose…"

He didn't want to go back… the city would be how he remembered it, the Lena frozen the trees covered in frost. Alex was suddenly beside him leaning against the counter his hand on his lower back, he looked at him and for an instant they locked eyes. In an unnerving way he knew that Alex understood that he didn't want to go back and why. He was unprepared for how grateful it made him and how much he just wanted to kiss him.

"I can drive if you want you all still look shattered." Wilson said.

Yassen looked up and saw Vy studying Wilson and then he nodded. "Alright."


	53. The M10, Northbound

St. Petersberg was beautiful. Its trees iced, the river frozen. People were ice skating, some struggling and some going so fast they'd probably break things if they fell. Alex, who'd spent the long journey nestled against Yassen's side running his fingers up and down the assassin's leg feeling the denim of his jeans, popped his seat belt and leant over him slightly as he stared.

Yassen stared too but his face was blank. Turning to him to ask a question Alex found the words died on his lips and he lifted a hand running it through Yassen's hair. A faint smile tugged at his lips and Alex smiled back despite the fact that the knot of worry in his stomach hadn't dispersed and he'd been feeling sick the entire way going over all the things that could go wrong.

He had so many questions… He wanted to know what exactly was going to happen when they got to St. Petersburg, he wanted to know what Yassen's plan was for killing Putin. He wanted to know what was supposed to happen after that but he didn't want to ask Yassen in front of Vy, or Fonetico as Wilson had named him. So he'd silently gone through everything in his head trying figure out the answers on his own.

He pressed a quick kiss to Yassen's lips, intending on sitting back but he pulled him back, fingers buried in his hair. He couldn't hold the gasp that escaped when he deepened it abruptly, tongue caressing his own. His body positively launched itself into gear, temperature sky rocketing and adrenaline flooding his system.

"Alex will you put on a fucking seatbelt!" Vy barked from the front. "We do _not_ need to get pulled over by the police."

Breathless, he flopped back into the middle seat and drew the belt over himself with his non injured arm. He was half hard.

"Yes Mr. Grumpy." He muttered.

Yassen laughed and Alex smiled.

"What?" Vy demanded.

"Nothing." Alex said benignly and could have sworn he saw Wilson crack a half smile too but it disappeared when Vy turned to look at him.

They arrived at a suburban house half an hour later and Wilson pulled into the driveway. Alex could see the neighbour shivering in a large coat, slippers and pyjama bottoms as she checked the letter box. How did these lines between normal life and the dark undercurrent he was trapped in get drawn so precisely? Did she know that one of the most famous assassins in the world had just pulled into the drive way? Did she have any idea how often dangerous people passed through the house next door?

Alex's legs were stiff when he got out especially his right, he rubbed it with the heal of his hand picking up his bag from the boot. The house was chilly inside and Wilson went about turning the heating up from frost.

"Right. Where's the memory stick?" Vy asked Alex.

Alex pulled it from his pocket and handed it to him asking Wilson as he came back: "What's on there for me?"

"Your father's file."

Alex was struck dumb for a moment and then focused on the memory stick.

Vy looked to Yassen. "We should start planning."

He nodded. "But right now I'm hungry and there's things we need. Keys?" He held out his hand to Wilson and the man handed the keys over. "Alex? Do you want to come?"

"Where are we going?"

"Clothes might be a good idea; NKVD uniforms aren't exactly inconspicuous, and we need food."

"As in a supermarket?" He asked.

"Yes."

Alex shook his head and followed him as he headed for the front door. "This is weird…"

"What?"

"You in Tescos - or the equivalent."

"Why?"

"Dunno," Alex rubbed at his leg again. "Still have trouble imagining you doing things that don't involve guns and knives…"

Yassen opened the front door for him. "Will it make you feel better if I hold the food at gunpoint until it jumps in the trolley?"

Alex laughed and limped out the door. "Well those peas can be stubborn."

"You should see what I do to the carrots." Yassen replied but Alex could see his heart wasn't quite in the joke. When they'd got in the car and were on the main road Alex found himself reaching for his hand, though he wasn't sure what to say afterwards. Finally he managed:

"How long do we have to stay?"

"Till we make contact. Then I don't know."

Yassen paused at an empty intersection to check for cars and Alex pulled up the handbrake before clambering over it. With his injuries he was about as graceful as a cow with foot and mouth and there was a moment when he kneed the steering wheel where he thought he might have to spend a minute half in Yassen's lap recovering. Eventually, with a few choice swearwords, he manoeuvred his non-compliant limbs into the position he wanted, straddling Yassen's lap, and undid the assassin's seatbelt. It took him nearly thirty seconds in all and he found himself grinning.

"I'm such a smooth operator."

Yassen grinned. "I barely blinked and here you are."

Alex laughed and leant in, speaking against his lips. "That kiss, before… That came out of nowhere."

"I wasn't satisfied with the peck you gave me."

"I was being polite. There were others in the car."

"And now?"

"There aren't. Hence the swan-like swoop."

"Do swans swear?"

"Shut up." He grabbed him by the back of the neck and kissed him. Hard. Yassen's hands tightened in his hair and on his lower back as he pulled him closer, hips lifting to meet his. It felt like a floodgate had opened, the assassin kissed him hungrily and his hands roamed under his clothes. Alex thought about his old fantasy about having sex in the front seat with him splayed over the dashboard and moaned.

Then gasped in pain.

"Ow!" His leg was cramping like mad. "Shit."

"What is it?"

"My leg." Alex flopped to the side landing uncomfortably over the gear stick and handbrake and tried to stretch the muscle. "Worst cramp ever."

Yassen massaged his leg and when it had gone Alex huffed, no longer hard. "My body is not on my side."

"We have time Alex." He leant down and kissed his leg. "Besides, we're at an intersection and I have no lube."

Alex pulled his legs back and straightened up with a grimace. "Good point." He rubbed his leg again. "There had better be a bath in that house."

Yassen agreed and looked down at himself putting a hand over his crotch and closing his eyes, probably trying to will his erection down. Alex grinned and pulled his hand away leaning over the handbrake and undoing his fly.

"Alex… You don't…" Yassen squeezed his forearm as he curled his hand around him through his boxers. "Uh…"

"I don't _what_?" Alex asked, drawing his cock out and stroking it.

"We're still at an inter- uh – section."

"Then I guess you'd better park somewhere…" Alex retorted and licked the tip.

He'd only done this once… In that house the first time. He'd never really had the chance to make him come like this, Yassen didn't usually let himself come until Alex had. Which was nice, but sometimes left him feeling like he owed him. As he took his length into his mouth he heard him gasp and grinned as he reached under him and disengaged the handbrake with a shaky hand, the gear change was similarly shaky and resulted in a crunch as it failed to bite.

"Alex… I cant…"

He tongued the slit and sucked gently.

"Fuck."

The car lurched forward as his foot hit the accelerator and just as immediately stopped, Alex laughed a little as they turned the corner and came to a stop on the side of the road. Yassen slumped in his seat letting go of the gear stick and the steering wheel and stroking down Alex's back with one hand while running his fingers through his hair with the other. Thrusting upwards slightly as Alex pushed his hand into his trousers and began to play with his balls.

"Pin my hips with your other arm." He gasped.

Alex looked up at him, mouth still around him. Yassen's head was thrown back and he was biting his lip. Alex laid his forearm across his hips and rested his weight on it, though he knew that pinning the assassin would probably take more than that. At least he seemed to be doing alright. His shirt pulled tight across his chest as Yassen clenched the material in his fist and moaned. Perhaps more than alright.

"Uh… _Jesus_ Alex." He thrust up against his hold but he just moved with him and then took him about as deep as he could go. His last attempt at deep-throating hadn't been a total success so he stopped there and hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard as he moved back up. Yassen let out a strangled curse and Alex could taste him on his tongue as he ran it over the head.

The shudder that went through Yassen's frame took him by surprise, and he glanced up to see Yassen looking down at him, chest heaving, eyes half closed with lust and felt Yassen push his hair out of his eyes.

"Alex…" The fingers in his hair tugged gently, a warning. He ignored it and sucked harder, bobbing his head up and down, and Yassen's hands tightened in his hair and jumper and his hips lifted against his arm. His whole body tensed and he came, twitching from head to toe. Alex swallowed, raising an eyebrow at the taste and then sat up slightly, tucking him back into his trousers and zipping him up.

Yassen was boneless in the driver's seat, head tipped back against the headrest. He cracked open an eye and smiled slightly.

"Okay?" Alex asked.

"You're amazing."

He grinned and sat back in his seat stretching his leg out in front of him, yassen rested his hand on the back of his neck playing with his hair.

"Why?"

"What Why?" Alex asked.

"Why'd you do that?"

He shrugged. "I wanted to make you feel good."

Yassen smiled. "Okay."

"Why else?"

"I don't know. I just don't want you to ever feel like you have to."

Alex frowned. "And I don't ever want you to feel like you have to overcompensate."

"Sorry?"

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

"You give a lot in bed… Almost like you don't think you deserve to get off if I don't first."

"I like making you come."

"It's more than that…"

"I know…" The assassin traced something on the steering wheel, avoiding his eyes.

"You feel guilty about this sometimes, don't you…"

"Occasionally."

"Why?"

"Your age, because of John…"

It hadn't even occurred to him that his father might be a part of the problem… But then he supposed it was probably an unwritten rule that you didn't sleep with your dead lover's son.

"I sometimes wonder what he would say."

"So do I, but he's dead Yassen."

He nodded and took Alex's hand, bringing it to his lips.

"Look at me."

Yassen turned.

"I want to be here with you, it's not because I have no choice, it's not because I owe you for saving my life. I want to be with you because…" Alex stopped dead mouth dry. "Because it feels right, because it feels good, because I trust you, Because I…"

His breath was catching in his chest. Jack was dead. He'd loved Jack and she was dead in a ball of flame because of him. He squeezed his eyes shut at the memory of it and of Yassen still and unmoving on the floor in that grainy image. Suddenly, he felt like begging him not to do the job.

"Alex…"

"I don't want you to-" Alex stopped himself and buried his face in his hands. "Isn't there any other way?"

"We need some allies Alex."

"You disappeared on your own before."

"No one was looking for me, and it was not so long… half a year Alex. I want to live the rest of my life with you."

Alex sat up and looked away from him out the window. He sounded utterly defeated when he muttered: "Let's go."


	54. The Emerald, 550 Central Av

Do you need me for anything?" Wilson asked yawning.

Fonetico, sat at the dining table, looked over his laptop at him. "Tell me how you know Sukachevsky."

"I saved his son's life a while back, completely by accident, and he insisted on rewarding me."

"Who's his son?"

"Lev. Decent enough… Provided you don't cross him. He's great friends with… Kidesh. Yassen worked with him a couple of times, he's completely insane."

"In what way?"

"It's difficult to explain, he's just mad and likes pushing people till they snap."

"Not a very useful trait for an assassin."

"He's effective enough." He yawned again and leant on the back of one of the chairs. Fonetico hadn't slept the entire way here while he'd driven and he looked terrible. Well… Not that bad. He was pale but his hair still looked soft and his eyes were still the same dark brown. He wished he'd look at him more often. "Anything else?"

He shook his head without looking up.

"How many beds are there?"

"Two."

"Right." Wilson headed for the living room and claimed the couch. It was far too short to be comfortable, he _was _6'3, but he didn't want to push it with Fonetico by taking one of the beds. He'd want one and Alex and Yassen would want the other. It also wasn't wide enough and one of his shoulders hung completely off the side. He turned towards the back of the couch and closed his eyes.

Fonetico could probably see him from the table. The thought had him curling up a little, despite the lack of space. He could hear him typing, his long fingers flying over the keyboard. _What would they feel like in mine?_ His hands were bigger than Fonetico's and he could imagine quite easily how it would feel to lace their finger's together. His heart had begun to race.

"Stop it." He whispered to himself, clenching his hands and willing the thought away. But then he shook his head, he'd resigned himself a long time ago to the fact that he was in love with the cold suspicious Russian in the other room. It was one of the reasons why he'd dared come forward with his information even though he'd probably kill him as soon as the job was over. Part of him still hoped though, hoped that he might be able to earn some trust, start small and just…

Just what?

He shook his head. There was no point in hoping; they didn't even know each other's names. Almost ten years he'd known him and he was no closer to gaining his trust than when he'd first saw him at Malagosto. Quiet, dark haired, dark eyed and lean he'd caught his eye immediately but it had been a year before he'd even spoken to him and when he had he'd been disappointed that his charm had failed to work. Not that charm was really worth a lot at malagosto, everyone had been suspicious from the beginning, but he'd tried hard with Fonetico. Still did. And he knew the guy had a sense of humour, after all those passport photographs with the Hawaiian shirts were clearly taking the piss, but god knows he didn't know how to coax it out and when he tried the Russian just seemed confused.

He should have been grateful; he'd chosen him to manage the network with him and pushing his luck by telling him he knew there was a link between Yassen and him had been foolish. But who could blame him for getting sick of being alone, he had no friends and couldn't contact his family even if he knew where they were. If the price for this desperate act was death then he wasn't so bothered. He couldn't see the point of any of this anymore. The information, the money… He enjoyed it a little, less than he used to, but he felt empty and perhaps the only thing that could change that couldn't care less about him.

With a resigned sigh he closed his eyes and searched for sleep.

Sukachevsky. Why did it have to be Sukachevsky?

The final link between him and what had happened, a man who he hadn't the heart to kill off after he'd been kind to him for a time, getting him off the street. He'd been thinking about adopting him even but then… Golgstein had come to his house and he'd…

Vy swallowed and pushed his laptop away. He was on his feet before he knew it, hands shaking looking around the room for somewhere to hide.

"Stop it." He said to himself. "Just _stop it_!"

But he couldn't. There were Images filtering through his mind, he could see the basement the swinging lightbulb, the table with one chair, the tiny bathroom, the bedside table and the chest of drawers. The iron bed with its twisted metal design at the head and foot, perfect for tying someone to.

Vy all but ran through the living room and fumbled with the door that led outside into the garden before running out into the freezing air. The snow was freezing underfoot as he stumbled onto the lawn and just stared up at the sky. Not in a basement, not trapped, free.

He began shivering almost immediately in only his long sleeved shirt but it felt good, it gave everything an edge. His breathing slowed and a numbness began to overcome him. Would he never be free of this? Would there ever be a day where it wasn't the first and last thing on his mind?

"Is something wrong?" Wilson's voice had no definable accent when he spoke, American completely gone. Instead of replying Vy turned around and went back inside, he didn't even look at him as he walked past. He heard him sigh and close the door and when he sat back down at the kitchen table he glanced over and saw he was lying back on the couch curled up. It didn't look particularly comfortable and he wondered why he'd chosen to sleep there when there were beds upstairs. Then he realised…

Wilson expected him to take one of the beds and Yassen and Alex to take the other. Whereas he'd expected to sleep next to Yassen like he always did when they were together but he guessed that that wouldn't be happening. It pissed him off a little, he slept incredibly badly unless Yassen was next to him. He wrenched the laptop back towards him and stabbed angrily at the keyboard for a minute before covering his face with his hands.

This was _not_ fair.

His phone began to ring, vibrating offensively on the table and he picked it up. _Withheld number_. It was his work phone, the one people used to contact him about jobs taking a deep breath he answered it.

"Hello?"

"_Hello, I am an associate of Wilson who I believe works for you…"_

"Indeed." Vy looked at the couch to find that Wilson had gotten up and was coming into the kitchen, he sat at the table with him.

_"I was informed by him that you may be able to find the assassin Gregorovich."_

"I may…"

_"Then perhaps we should meet? Might I have a name?"_

"Echo."

_"Good, when and where?"_

"The emerald bar st. Petersburg tonight in two hours."

"_There will be two of us."_

"There will be two of usalso."

"_At eight then_."

Vy hung up.

"Sukachevsky?" Wilson asked.

Vy nodded at looked at his watch, they had to be in the city or they'd never make the bar in time which was an interesting coincidence but he let it slide. St. Petersburg was the city of Yassen's birth so it might have been the first place they'd looked. Never mind that it was the last place Yassen wanted to be.

"I have a plan."

"Tell me."

* * *

><p>The bar opened precisely at eight. Vy was good friends with the barman Mo under the name Victor and he let him in slightly early with Wilson and let them drink at the bar while he set up for the night ahead.<p>

"It's been a while Victor."

"It has. I've been away."

How much Mo guessed about the legality of his job he kept to himself but he seemed to understand not to ask questions about where Vy went, though he could see that his curiosity was piqued by Wilson; he'd never brought anyone here with him before. He didn't ask though, after one of Vy's clients pulled a gun on him under the table any curiosity was kept under wraps. He'd been surprised that he'd allowed him back in, but this bar was the kind of place where that likely happened quite often.

It was a dim, smoky bar on central avenue with a cash only policy and décor that didn't look like it had been replaced since it opened in 1950. The drinks were cheap and the cocktails had legs so long they'd probably run the length of the bar if you let go of them. Vy stuck to vodka when he was here; at least he knew what was in it.

"Can't persuade you to have an emerald?"

Considering the noxious colour of the barman's speciality and its oily consistency Vy always refused; there was two shots of absinthe and something sweet and vile in the drink, with the way people acted once they'd drunk it he wouldn't be surprised if there was also some sort of hallucinogen. "Maybe later."

"I'll hold you to that."

Vy smiled. "For now another vodka please."

He left the bottle for him and Wilson who was on Tequila raised an eyebrow at him. "I didn't even know you drank."

"You know nothing about me."

The guy shrugged, sat on a bar stool next to him Vy felt slightly dwarfed by his size. "Don't pretend to."

"In any case… I'm Russian."

"Not always you're not."

Vy grinned, he almost liked playing this game with Wilson, giving himself layers of accents was something he did very well indeed. He'd never spoken to him with his real accent, the rough street slang of Moscow, if that was even his real accent anymore. Wilson had dropped his accent altogether, talking with some kind of general tone that didn't exactly hint at anything but Europe as a whole.

"You'd probably have been an amazing musician."

Vy raised an eyebrow at him. "Why'd you say that?"

"You must have an amazing ear… You're probably pitch perfect."

"Probably." He had no idea what pitch perfect was.

"What are you going with tonight?"

Vy shrugged. "We'll see."

Crissy the girl behind the bar's phone went off and she answered it laughing.

"Hey Mo!"

"Yeah?"

"Can I let a mate in?"

"Yeah, so long as we're ready to open in fifteen…"

"We will be!"

She jogged to the front door and opened it admitting two men, Wilson slipped off his bar stool. "looks like you're not the only one with friends in the Emerald…"

Vy also stood took out his wallet and caught Mo's eye, paying for their drinks before turning to the two men. He almost dropped his vodka. Sukachevsky's son was his splitting image, dark hair, light brown eyes and the same round slightly pudgy face. When Vy had worked for his father he'd been managing the part of the "business" in st. Petersburg to prove himself, they'd only met once and he'd ruffled his hair. When Lev introduced himself he had almost the same voice as his father, roughened by cigarettes and vodka.

"I'm Lev Victorovich, this is Kidesh."

When he answered his own voice, the one he used with only Yassen, just slipped out.

"Wilson and Echo."

Lev cocked his head to the side and extended a hand, Vy shook it. Then he asked.

"Vodka?"

Vy nodded and he got a bottle.

"You're from Moscow?"

"Yeah."

"Northeast?"

"Yeah,"

"Golyanovo?"

"Around there." They sat down at a table in the corner and Lev lit a cigarette.

"So… Can you find him?"

"Yes."

"How quickly?"

"Depends on how much you're willing to pay."

"You're the one who saved his life last year…"

"Yes. I owed him a favour and now he owes me one."

"Not friends then?"

"I don't have friends."

"Shame." Kidesh chimed in and Vy looked at him properly for the first time. He had blond hair and startling green eyes with a glitter of madness in his slightly demented smile. He was incredibly attractive but he made him nervous; there was an unpredictability about him that made Vy want to clear the blast radius.

Lev considered him for a moment. "Hundred thousand dollars if you can find him within the next couple of days. We also may have a few things that you could help out with on top."

"Like what?"

"Itel on the assassination."

"Deal."

Lev poured them all a shot and they clashed them together in the centre before downing them in one swift movement. Vy didn't like the way Kidesh was looking at him, like he was prey, he withdrew a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and offered them around. Only Lev took one. He lit up and drew the smoke into his lungs, pleased with the head rush, before passing Lev the lighter.

"So where do you think he is?" Lev asked blowing out a stream of smoke.

"Well… he could be anywhere. Between him and the kid they speak about twelve languages, know most of Europe, eastern Europe, the middle east and the far east…" He took another drag of his cigarette. "Or… He could be right here in St. Petersburg."

Lev grinned as Yassen sat in the seat next to him and Alex in the seat between Kidesh and Wilson.

"Remind me to save your number." Lev said and offered a hand to Yassen. "It's good to meet you Gregorovich."

"And you, I knew your father."

"So I gather."

"I liked him."

"He likes you."

"Would you mind speaking in English? Alex doesn't speak Russian."

"If you like." He extended a hand to Alex and the spy shook it. "It's good to meet you Alex."

"And you." He said politely.

"This is Kidesh, Yassen I believe you know each other."

"Me and Yassen go way back." Kidesh said with a grin that almost had Vy recoiling, though Yassen just raised his eyebrows with a bored kind of stare. Then he turned to Alex and grinned at him. "Heya beautiful."

Alex blinked and then just laughed and looked at Yassen touching his black eye. "Beautiful…"

Kidesh cocked his head to the side, looked him up and down and got a smack round the head for it from Lev who whispered to him harsh and low for a second. Then he looked up at Yassen slightly sheepish and was met with a flat glare.

Vy caught the attention of the barman and asked him for two extra glasses, pouring more vodka into the four already on the table. Once they'd downed them Lev stood.

"Can I interest everyone in some poker at mine?"

"Why not?" Yassen said and looked to Vy who studied Lev for just a second before nodding.

"Alright."

Lev grinned. "Let's go."


	55. Lev Sukachevsky's Penthouse

Yassen threw in his cards and watched Alex from across the table. His face was guarded, brown eyes simmering with a watchful concentration. That look had many times in the past been aimed at him and he could almost taste the excitement he'd felt when they'd stared at each other each holding an advantage.

How had he then got this finicky MI6 fledgling to trust him? Him! He still couldn't quite conceive of how that plan of pushing him till he broke had worked, it had been designed to gain him access but trust? Trust wasn't something earned like that… And it was plain to Yassen that he trusted him just from the way he reacted during sex. How he could relax like that, give himself so fully and fuck the thought of his body beneath him was enough to send heat crawling up his spine and over his shoulders. He could murmur relax and Alex bloody did, just sighed and arched into him like it was so easy.

It had taken an hour sometimes for John to coax his body into a state that he'd deemed relaxed enough. Yet Alex… As soon as he eased his fingers into him he pushed back against them. Even after that first time… It made his stomach twist thinking about it, he treated prostitutes better than he had Alex that night. The lack of preparation, the simple fact that he'd had sex – no – _fucked_ him so callously against a wall and stripped his virginity from him as subtly as intense heat blistered and peeled paint from a wall. Christ it must have hurt, he'd left scratches over his shoulders that took a week to heal and more over his scalp plus that bite to his lip that bled for two days.

No, how he could trust him now was completely beyond the realms of belief and yet he did. When he woke from a nightmare he reached for him and when Yassen kissed him he kissed back. That night in Cairo they'd lain there and kissed for hours, skin on skin and he'd just slid into him finding him already slick with his cum.

It was strange to think that was just over a week ago, and now that skin he'd kissed was black and blue and his Alex – his beautiful Alex – was so sad. It made him furious, that those bastards had done this to him, that they'd filled his eyes with that horrid emptiness. He wasn't sure if he could fill it, or if Alex would even let him try. Fuck knows he was difficult to read, even now… In the car he was certain he'd been about to say he loved him, he'd been so certain his chest had tightened and his breath had stopped in his throat.

Now he wasn't so sure, the way his body had folded in on itself made his chest ache. And when he'd practically begged him not to do this… Was he wrong? Could they do it on their own? He hated the way Alex had closed himself off after that, pushed everything down with an ease he'd only seen in himself and Vy. If Alex was nothing like himself in that regard then he'd be happy, as for Vy… His state of mind was so fractured behind all those mirrored personalities he wasn't even sure he knew who he was, whether he even wanted to. The thought of being so totally repulsed by touch, sexual or not, the utter terror…

He planned on lying down on the couch with Alex half on top of him when he got back tonight, his head on his shoulder and his body curled against his side. Warm and relaxed, talking softly or maybe just not at all. He'd said he could feel it… perhaps he didn't need words, not when something as simple as running his hands over his skin could help.

Alex glanced him and he realised he'd been staring for a while. The spy's mouth curved upwards slightly and his eyes ran over his chest. Then he wet his lips. Yassen found himself doing the same and immediately wished he was sat next to him so he could maybe run his fingers up the inside seam of his trousers and whisper something lewd in his ear. Suddenly laying him out on the kitchen table seemed like a better idea; it was the perfect height…

No, with the state Alex was in he'd have to be very careful with him. Leg and shoulder injuries, countless bruises and scratches, not to mention that he might not even _want_ to… Though sinking into that tight heat would be fantastic, just holding him close and listening to his tiny moans… The way his hips would lift against his so he could get deeper, the way he would shudder when he ground against him.

Alex broke eye contact when Kidesh touched his wrist, he pulled his hand back. The assassin was looking at his hair like he wanted to touch it. It seemed that he hadn't taken any of his warning glances to heart. Yassen swore to himself that if he looked at Alex like that one more time he'd eviscerate him, plain and simple.

"I've told him."

Yassen turned to Lev. "I know you have."

"Unfortunately Alex has caught his eye."

"Hmm… He can handle himself, if Kidesh pushes it too far he'll regret it." Even in the state he was in Alex could get one up on the green eyed assassin if he needed to. Not that Yassen would let it get that far.

"I certainly believe it."

"But if he lays a finger on him…"

"He won't, I promise you."

"You promise me?" Yassen looked him in the eye.

"I promise you."

"So how do you know Kidesh?"

"When I was younger we used to fuck. He goes on and on about how good a lay you are."

Yassen laughed.

"I'm serious, he won't shut up about how he once managed to tie you down with duct tape and ride you."

"And then I knocked him out and left him in a hotel corridor."

"He probably deserved it."

"He deserved a lot worse."

"You don't like to be tied up then?"

He'd let Alex do it, he'd love it if he tied him to the headboard and rode him like he did in that safe house in Whitehall.

"Not by him."

* * *

><p>Wilson didn't like the way Kidesh was looking at Fonetico. He wanted to punch the leer off the man's face. He was looking between him and Alex and it made him look like a kid in a toy shop who couldn't decide which one he wanted first. Worst of all, Fonetico didn't seem all that bothered. Kidesh said something and Fonetico rolled his eyes and laughed ever so slightly.<p>

_What if he got with him?_

The thought had him looking down at his cards, a two of diamonds and a jack of diamonds; loosing cards again…

* * *

><p>His heart was racing. Why couldn't he be sitting next to Wilson and Alex where he was safe from trailing hands, where pretending he didn't know Yassen would have been less of a difficulty. Thankfully Alex seemed to be taking some of the heat off but he couldn't help but he was also making It clear that he was in no way interested which, while being good for Yassen, was shit for him.<p>

Looking up from the table he caught Wilsons eye and the operative glanced from him to Kidesh beside him.

"Your underling seems fairly suspicious of me." Kidesh said.

"Does he?"

"He's watching me like a hawk." His fingers trailed down the back of his hand, he suppressed the almost overwhelming urge to flinch. "Could he be jealous?"

"Of what?"

"Of the fact that soon I'll have my mouth on your cock and you'll be saying my name like it's going out of fashion."

He laughed and rolled his eyes pushing down the rising feeling in the back of his throat. Then pulled his hand away and sat back in his chair. "Touch me again and I'll cut your hand off."

"Only so you can use it to stroke yourself."

In a disinterested way he eyed his vodka and swilled it in his glass. "You're disgusting."

* * *

><p>"That was exhausting." Alex slumped in his seat in the back of the car for a moment and then shifted over with a wince and took Yassen's hand leaning against his side. The assassin shifted and took his hand back wrapping his arm around him and murmuring in his ear. "Are you okay?"<p>

The question hit him like a tidal wave and a flash of a burnt out car pervaded his mind for a second before he answered softly. "Depends what you mean?"

"The way Kidesh was looking at you…" The assassin said and Alex looked at him as he made this sound almost like a growl, an aggressive rumble.

"Oh… That."

"That…"

"Do you really think he'd try something? I mean… You'd kill him, and if you weren't around I'd break his kneecaps with a cricket bat."

"It doesn't stop him looking."

"He looks at you too. Do you two have history?"

"Brief and very forgettable."

"He's probably just jealous."

"Apparently he talks about me a lot."

"Probably because you aren't brief… Or forgettable."

The dark chuckle in his ear made Alex's blood rush southwards as a twist of arousal made itself known.

"What food did you get earlier?" Vy asked from the front.

"Lots of stuff." Yassen replied. "Are you hungry?"

"Not particularly. Did you get any Vodka?"

"Stolnichnaya, it's in the freezer."

"Good."

They were back at the house half an hour later at which point Vy took a bottle of vodka out of the freezer, four glasses and poured his own before taking it through to the lounge and sitting down on the couch. Alex picked up the bottle and poured Yassen one and then looked to Wilson.

"Fill it up." He said.

"Right."

Yassen finished locking the front door and Alex gestured at one of the glasses, he smiled at him.

"Thanks." He picked up the glass with his left hand and cupped the side of his face drawing him into a brief but intimate kiss that had him blushing. "Don't drink too much."

Alex nodded and he released him going to sit with Vy.

Wilson sighed and lent against the counter.

"You alright?" Alex asked quietly putting the top back on the Vodka.

He glanced though the door into the living room. "Fine. What about you?"

"I'm okay… "

"It must be strange for you…" He said.

Alex nodded and sat on one of the kitchen chairs. "But I'm beginning to realise that what I thought was right and wrong… That that was pretty naïve."

Wilson half smiled and sat down opposite him. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well it's not like in the movies is it? I suppose I always thought the bad guys were one dimensional, one motive, one goal."

"What made you change your mind?"

"Have a guess."

He laughed a little. "Everyone's complicated I suppose."

Alex drew a line with some condensation from the bottle of vodka. "Very complicated…"

Wilson picked up the bottle and poured himself some more holding out the bottle.

"Just a little…" Alex said.

"There's probably some juice if you don't like the taste."

"It's fine when it's cold. I just… I don't really drink."

"Never been drunk?"

"Never and I don't think… Not right now, it wouldn't be a good idea."

"Probably not, it's not exactly a _gregarious_ atmosphere…"

Alex snickered and then laughed. "Gregarious… Does that ever happen? With Mr. no name?"

Wilson slowly smiled. "Never."

"What is it you call him again?"

"Fonetico."

"Fonetico. Do you speak Spanish?"

He nodded. "Do you?"

"I spent a year in Madrid." Alex replied in Spanish. "Stayed with a host family."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"They were kind to me… It might have been the best year of my life."

* * *

><p>When yassen took his hand and lead him upstairs he could see that he'd been drinking in the way he walked. Not as soundless, the line of his body off just slightly. But when he kissed him it was with an exaggerated gentleness and he undressed him carefully before lifting him like he was made of glass and laying him on the bed. He tried nothing, soft kisses and bare echoes of touches against his bruised skin the only contact.<p>

It made his heart wrench in his chest and he found himself crying into Yassen's shoulder as he held him close and warm in the dark, cold room.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"It's just… When you touch me like that it's difficult to pretend I'm alright."

"I know you aren't alright, you don't need to pretend all the time."

"I still haven't told you what happened."

"Do you want to?"

"They made me watch…" He sobbed. "They made me watch her die and I'm the one who told her to try and escape…"

He told it in bits and pieces, the gold souk, smithers, the chase and finally shooting Julius Grief. He felt washed out afterwards and his voice was cracked and croaky.

"I feel like a part of me died Yassen." He murmured.

"I feels like that…" He whispered back. "But not forever."


	56. 16 Московское Avenue

When Alex awoke in the morning he was disorientated by the feel of a heavy duvet on top of him rather than a sheet. For a moment he couldn't remember where he was and the blank walls didn't help him and then the knowledge flooded back and he suddenly couldn't breathe. Where was Yassen? He sat bolt upright and looked around; the room was empty but there were footsteps along the corridor and when the door opened there was Yassen.

Swallowing his panic he smiled unsurely, even though he felt sick.

"Alex…" He cocked his head and he noticed that the Russian looked as if he'd been working out. Of course… Yassen didn't get a body like that from doing nothing…

"Sorry…" He wrapped his arms around himself. "Don't worry."

Yassen sat on the bed next to him, running his hand over his shoulder and then up his neck so he could cup the side of his face. "What is it?"

Alex looked down at the duvet, thick under his hands, and when Yassen stroked the side of his face he just looked straight into his eyes and kissed him. His hands were on his shoulders, damp with sweat, and in his hair and suddenly he felt alright again, he felt grounded. He pressed his forehead to Yassen's and then pulled back.

"Sorry." He said softly. "Woke up and didn't know where I was."

Yassen pulled him into his arms and held him tight.

* * *

><p>"We meet with Sukachevsky tonight."<p>

"The real one?" Yassen asked.

"The real one." Fonetico replied.

"Where and when?"

"His mansion."

"Just like old times…" Yassen said.

"How do you know him?" Wilson asked, taking a sip of coffee.

"Killed some people back when I was seventeen, then later a Scorpia operative. I gather it was quite beneficial to him."

"Its good he owes you a favour… Ning may not like you so much, Alex killed one of his men in Thailand. I don't know if he knows that yet but we should operate as if he's going to find out…"

"Who was it?" Alex asked.

"His name was Sun thorn, you beat him in a Muay thai fight."

"He died?"

"In the riot that followed your win."

"Oh…" Alex looked down at his hands.

"How do you know that?" Fonetico asked him.

"His right hand man and I know each other."

Yassen cocked his head looking him up and down but he kept his thoughts to himself. Wilson entertained a brief fantasy of Fonetico getting Jealous of the Chinese man but pushed it from his mind when Alex looked straight at him, black eye going yellow around the edges.

"Who's the one making the final negotiations?"

"Sukachevsky; it's his country."

"Do we know what they're trying to achieve yet?" Yassen asked.

"Working on it."

"Perhaps you could talk to your Chinese friend."

"When I get a chance."

Fonetico nodded and got up. "I'm meeting Natalia in half an hour."

"Need cover?" Wilson asked.

He nodded. "Yassen?"

Wilson felt his heart drop, he didn't even trust him for _that_ anymore… he didn't know if it was the bad nights sleep or the stress but it hit him harder than it should and he sighed before he even thought about it. Thankfully the Fonetico was nearly out the door and Yassen was kissing busy kissing Alex, the boy drawn up against him like he was a life raft. When he'd let him go and gone after Fonetico Alex sat opposite him again and grinned. That too caught him off guard and he found himself smiling back.

"Fonetico's a dick." The kid said in spanish.

Wilson blinked and then smiled a little more. "What are you going to do?"

"Fuck knows."

"Want to come pick up some dead drops?"

"I probably shouldn't."

He got up and shrugged, another day on his own. "Whatever you say."

Wilson had got the keys to the car he'd picked up yesterday and his stuff together and was almost out the door before Alex caught him.

"Alright. I am a resourceful individual as you say, I'm sure if you try and kidnap me I'll be fine."

"I've seen pictures of what you've done to men far better than me… I'd be in pieces." He was only half joking… the corpse of Julius Grief came to mind, it must have been like killing himself.

"Have you got any way of letting Yassen know? Otherwise he might go mental…"

The thought of it made his blood cold. "Yeah I'll text Fonetico and ask."

"You don't need to ask…" He said with a strange look, as if he didn't understand what he was talking about and limped past him. "Just tell him."

Wilson just stared at him and followed him outside, picking up his bag. "Why don't you ring him…"

Alex laughed darkly but took the phone. "Scaredy cat."

He pressed the call button and got in the passenger seat. "Hi. I'm fine. I'm going with Wilson to pick up some dead drops."

Wilson started the engine expecting Alex to get out when the assassin went, as Alex had put it, Mental.

"Yeah I have it. No. It'll be fine. You said keep an eye on him." He grinned wolfishly at him. "Okay, Bye."

"Are we good?" He asked Alex.

"As I said… I didn't need permission."

"You're 'keeping an eye on me'."

"Exactly, and if you try anything I'll shoot you in the throat."

"You don't need to threaten me, as I said… I've seen photos."

"Not to mention what yassen would do to you."

"Don't… Fuck… he was trained by Dr. Three."

"Me too."

Wilson groaned. "Three of the most dangerous people in the world… What _am_ I doing?"

"You want to live on your own terms… I can understand that."

He huffed. "_Die_ on my own terms more like…"

"Well there is that…"

"Do you want coffee?"

"Love one."

"We'll stop off."

Alex pushed a button on the radio and flinched when it blared out turning it down and switching stations until he found something that wasn't Russian heavy metal or rap.

"What music do you like?"

"Not rap is good."

"This okay?"

"Yeah this is fine." It was a kind of soft guitar music that wasn't quite any genre.

"You got a favourite food?"

Wilson looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"Well it's not like we can bond over where you come from… You won't tell me."

"I like cassoulet... Do you know it?"

"Yeah, French dish with beans and duck and vegetables… Tastes amazing with roast potatoes cooked in duck fat."

"I cannot remember the last time I had roast potatoes cooked in duck fat…"

"Me neither."

* * *

><p>The meet had gone well. Vy had sounded out Natalya about the president's timetable and found her to be accommodating for a price. They were on their way back when he turned to Yassen from the passenger seat.<p>

"Why did you let him go with Wilson?"

"Because he was testing me."

"What?"

"Its complicated… I think he was trying to find out if he still has input, or maybe he was trying to find out if I intend to let him make his own decisions."

"Do you?"

"He isn't an idiot Vy and has it occurred to you that it might not be good to let Wilson run around unattended?"

He didn't answer. "I don't think it's a good idea to have him running around at all, but I have no choice."

"How did you sleep?"

Vy shook his head. "How do you think?"

"I'm only down the hallway if you need me you know…"

"I don't."

Yassen knew he suffered terribly with nightmares but couldn't think of an appropriate way to fix the situation… The three of them had slept in the same bed in Moscow but Alex hadn't been in a fit state to notice, besides… If he slept with them that meant little or no chance of anything intimate.

"It's fine Yassen… I'm used to it."

"So when are we going to move on? And where?"

"Spain, straight after we have the meeting and we keep moving until the hit."

"Information as we go?"

"Precisely, I'm taking no risks."

Yassen pulled into the driveway finding the other car already in there. Alex opened the door and he seized him in a hug, loosening his grip only when he hissed in pain.

"Shoulder…"

"Sorry." He gave him a kiss on the lips and then pressed another to his swollen eye. "It looks better."

"Its gone green and yellow…"

"Green and yellow is good." He felt like carrying him upstairs and kissing every bruise on his battered body.

"Yassen get in here we've got intel!" Vy called from the other room.

Alex was looking up at him with that sly look he got when he seemed to know what Yassen was thinking.

"It's going to have to be later, grumpy pants is waiting…"

Sex. Later. His brain immediately questioned why not now but then Alex was turning him around and propelling him through into the living room saying: "You can give me a shoulder massage though."

Vy gave him a thick file to read on Putin; medical history, political history, personal history. He sat down with it on his lap and Alex sat in front of him between his legs, Yassen massaged his shoulder with one hand and began reading. After a while he heard the tapping of keys and discovered Alex was on the laptop that had previously been on the coffee table, he drew the USB stick that Wilson had given him from his pocket and plugged it in opening it up. There were three files: Alex Rider, John Rider, Nikolai Vladchensky.

Alex hovered over the file of his father for long moments before clicking on his own, the file was extensive and organised by date and mission. Yassen watched as he scrolled down to the last file dated two days ago.

**Actions on MIA/Desertion**

He clicked it and found three files within; Minutes for a meeting between Jones, Blunt, Crawly and a few other characters from MI6's operational staff,a psychologists report and a file saying supporting documents.

"I want to read that after you…"

Alex turned his head and nodded, Yassen tried to put it aside and concentrate on the file in his lap.

* * *

><p>Rubbing at his eyes Alex rolled his head around the stretch his neck and then settled down to reading the document on the meeting.<p>

**Meeting's topic: **

Agent Alex Rider's status of Missing in Action/Desertion

**Staff in Attendance:**

Alan Blunt, Tulip Jones, Agent John Crawley, Agent Ben Daniels **Technical Staff:** Ludvia Splunik, Samuel Smith

**Chaired by:** Alan Blunt

**Minute Keeper:** Samuel Smith

10:22 Tulip Jones begins meeting

-States that as of 3:00pm previous day Alex Rider is officially missing, Last seen by CIA operatives getting into a helicopter with a man they presumed to be MI6. Man of unconfirmed ID, Rider's consent unknown.

Unknown Man:

6ft, dark hair, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and light coloured jeans carrying a sniper rifle and twin Makarovs. Identity believed to be codename: Shadow. A known accomplice of Yassen Gregorovich.

Why it may be Shadow: Hawaiian Shirt a known theme, fits partial description, believed to have helped Gregorvich smuggle Rider out of Libya in August.

Why it may not be Shadow: Gregorovich not in accompaniment, wearing Hawaiian shirt which is thought to be a joke, action too high risk to fit his OP. # see accompanying file on Shadow for additional information.

Helicopter tracked back to Egyptian special forces team that absconded with cash and craft to Syria where they are assumed to have sold the craft to anti-government forces; amount of cash unknown.

Jones states that from here the trail goes cold. Car seen leaving the Cairo military base but passengers not identified and CCTV inconclusive. Face by face checks being carried out on all chartered flights but Egyptian authorities admitting that in confusion following Secretary of State's assassination attempt flights may have been missed and that their officials are seldom immune to bribes. Agents on ground still trying to conclusively check private and commercial flights for injured fifteen year old.

Crawley: What injuries did he sustain?

Unconfirmed Injuries listed as: Black eye, limp, possible dislocated shoulder. This is by no means comprehensive and should be treated as minimum injury list.

**Actions decided:**

Find Gregorovich

Find Shadow

Find Egyptian Special Forces Team

Find any and All Scorpia operatives and interrogate them.

Work on collaboration with CIA to interrogate Scorpia operatives they have in custody.

Status of Alex Rider set optimistically as MIA not Desertion. # see psychological report

**End meeting**

Alex closed that file and opened the Psychological report

**Psychological report**

by: **Jane Sarista MD. **

Before I was assigned this task I read all available information on Alex Rider. Completely unacquainted with the Agent this proved a colossal task so I must ask for forgives for the tardiness of my report. I must also declare my discomfort at the material I did read and apologise if this effects my report; any bias you may find is unconscious rather than put in to make a point. I must also stress that without ever having interviewed Agent Rider I can only work from the information given to me, which while being rather informative is nowhere near enough to form as accurate a picture as I would like. Lastly you asked me to keep this report under two pages, which I found rather impossible. The full report is attached and a very brief summary is all that you will find in these two pages written in bullet point form that in no way covers all my findings.

Alex Rider – a brief summary

From skipping through home videos John and Helen Rider seemed capable loving parents, Alex had a secure attachment to both his parentsSeparation from mother at three months after their death may have resulted in an insecure attachment especially as no full time caregiver was implemented for a further two months.Ian rider seemed a capable parent to Alex, I can find little to back this up but that Alex is too well balanced for him to have been disinterested or abusive.Jack Starbright obviously became a mother to Alex as well as a friend, threatening to take her away straight after Ian Riders death must have been a traumatic experience for Agent Rider. Subsequently after the Harrowing experiences of the past year I can only imagine the catastrophic affect her death will have on him, especially if, as seems to be apparent, there is no one else for him to turn to.With this in mind it could be that Alex may grasp at any opportunity for kindness or compassion.In turn this means that in answer to your question _would Alex willingly go to Yassen Gregorovich_? Yes might be the answer. He has given Alex the impression that he cares for him and this alone may make him want to accept his company given my hypothetical estimation of his mental state.Another explanation may be that he has entered a fugue state in which he will simply do what he's told, after an event as cataclysmic as the death of someone that close to him this is a very viable explanation. If, when he wakes, Yassen is present and tries to relieve his suffering a bond will be formed between them especially if he speaks to him while he is in the fugue state. (see my extended notes about this, it is crucial)Over all it is very likely that if the man who took him in the helicopter is "shadow" that Alex is now with Yassen Gregorovich for better or worse. Certainly if he manages to convince him that he won't hurt him he may stay there, firstly because he blames MI6 for Miss Starbright's death, secondly because he may feel he has no one else to go, thirdly because Gregorovich may have a way of making him feel safe.Lastly I would like to make a note that on reading John riders file the nature of his relationship with Yassen Gregorovich was labelled as suspect by his handler. If it was of a sexual nature, as he believed, then Yassen may be trying to replace John with his son or may be seeking to re-enact their relationship by him taking on the guardian role that John first functioned as. There is a danger that the relationship has become, or will become, sexual in nature and - in order to keep the protection and feeling of safety that he is seeking - Alex may go along with it as a survival mechanism.

I would like to tender my resignation as of when you receive this report. I cannot work for an organisation which would harm an innocent teenager with wilful malice and against all psychological advice for the sake of a greater good that has become all too murky. If you do find him I can only recommend that he be admitted to a psychiatric institution for a time to deal with the deep seated trauma that he has endured. If you do not find him I'm sure that it has occurred to you that Alex Rider may be dead from suicide or that Yassen Gregorovich or countless others may have killed him. I hope for his sake that it that was quick, he has suffered unimaginably for this organisation and I am sure that even if you do find him and give him the best care there is, he will never be the same.

Jane Sarista

Alex closed the file and calmly but his heart was hammering in his chest as he did and he could feel Yassen's hand still on his shoulder as he wondered whether to delete it. _I want to read that after you_. He struggled to relax and shut the laptop putting it on the table in front of him.

"Anything interesting?" yassen asked.

"They have no idea where I am or who I'm with, though they _are_ guessing I'm with you…"

"It's good if they're guessing, though I can't imagine they will be for too much longer…"

"You mean…"

"Too many people know."

Alex leant back against the sofa resting his head on yassen's knee feeling his fingers run through his hair slowly, carefully. _There is a danger that the relationship has become, or will become, sexual in nature and - in order to keep the protection and feeling of safety that he is seeking - Alex may go along with it as a survival mechanism._ If it was true that meant that nothing he felt was real, that this was all just because he was fucked up and that meant he was using Yassen. Using Yassen to keep himself safe and paying for it with the relationship that the assassin wanted.

But if that was true he'd know… He'd know if this was some kind of act to keep Yassen protecting him. Wouldn't he?

_"attracted by the fact you're so dangerous_"

He'd always had a talent for survival.

Alex looked up at Vy, sitting at the dining table skimming through reports. He'd told him he didn't love him, that he didn't even care about him. He'd told Yassen to leave him and maybe he was right, maybe he didn't deserve him because despite the part of the report that said that Yassen was trying to replace or re-enact what he'd had with his father he believed him. When Yassen said he loved him he believed him.

So where did that leave Alex? Was he just surviving?

He heard Yassen shift some paper behind him and turned around kneeling painfully.

"Yassen…" He rested his arms on his knees.

"Hmm?"

"I need you to do something for me."

He gave him his full attention, blue eyes unwavering. "What?"

"Don't read the Psychologist's report on me. I haven't bothered deleting it, I know you could get it back anyway, so im just going to ask you not to."

"Why?"

Alex knelt up and leant over the file in his lap. "I don't want you to think it's true, I don't want you to think I'm that fucked up." He took a deep breath. "If you can't stop yourself then just… please let me talk to you about it."

He could see the curiosity but also the concern and he ran his hand through his hair. "I won't read it… I promise."

"Okay." He smiled a little. "Thank you. Do you want some tea?"

"Yeah… Black with lemon please."

"Okay." Alex stood up and kissed him intending it to be just a peck but found himself burying his hand in Yassen's hair and doing what most of the people at school would have called snogging. When he pulled away the assassin was breathing hard and he himself had a semi. This was definitely real… not some twisted way of taking care of himself. If it was just a survival mechanism would he think about touching him so often, would he ever initiate a kiss?

Would he?


	57. The Sukachevsky Manor

Sukachevsky's mansion was a lot larger than Vy remembered. When he and Wilson got out the taxi it was all he could do not to just stare at the place. It had obviously been extended and there was a pool and a tennis court, he couldn't help but look up at the bay window of the attic where he'd slept when Yuri had taken him with him on a visit from Moscow.

"Some house." Wilson remarked.

"Indeed."

"You alright?"

"Fine…" Vy took the stairs up to the front entrance and they were searched at the door by a silent guy with a lot of Russian prison tattoos. He thought he recognised him but couldn't be certain, he tried his hardest not to flinch as he patted him down and they were met by a woman, Yuri's daughter if he was correct, who smiled coldly at him.

"I shall take you through to my father."

It _was_ his daughter, Ogla. The last time he'd seen her she was a teenager, with unruly blonde hair and a vicious temper. Her mother and her had always been at odds the whole time he was here but he remembered that she'd taught him a trick with an ice cube a piece of string and some salt and that they'd eaten ice cream together. Now she was an incredibly attractive woman, though she had her guard up.

She led them into the sitting room where Yuri took meetings with mobsters and Vy's stomach turned over when he saw Yuri sat in an arm chair. He looked so very old, his eyes looking straight ahead but his head was cocked at an angle that suggested he knew exactly where they were, Wilson had said he was on the ball and now he regretted that he hadn't disguised his voice when he'd met with his son.

"Do you have a name?" Ogla asked him.

"Do you have a favourite letter?"

Yuri turned in his direction and his heart sped up, he'd asked that question long ago in this very house, what was he playing at?

"O." She said.

"Then call me Oscar."

"As you wish. Oscar and Wilson _Otetz_."

"My son tells me you found Yassen Gregorovich for us."

"I did."

"And so very quickly too."

"I thought it might be more beneficial to you to have him earlier rather than later and his preparations tend to be rather thorough."

"Do you know him well?"

"Not at all."

"You saved his life last year…"

"There was something I needed him for."

"Even with an injury that severe?"

"He is rather unique."

Yuri nodded. "He is. And far more useful to us in the world than in an MI6 prison."

"Or dead." Vy said, wincing internally when he used slang, old slang.

"My daughter tells me that you are quite a remarkable chameleon, Oscar, that you can imitate accents, speak six different languages fluently and that I should trust you as much as I can see you… But I refuse to believe that anyone can imitate a muscovite accent such as yours as well as you do without having spent a lot of time there…"

"Perhaps I did…"

"Then we must have met before, I almost recognise your voice… Almost."

Vy was silent, he almost wanted Yuri to name him. He wondered what he'd do if he did, whether he'd run or not but he didn't . Vy knew he was safe from that; his voice had broken, he could not see him and he thought he was dead.

"We've never met." He said.

"Perhaps you have been avoiding me."

"You have had no need of me until now."

"No, but what I find remarkable is that you have never had need of me when I virtually run the city."

Vy couldn't help himself and quoted Yuri from the first time their met. "From what I've heard Moscow runs itself, You just make sure someone's there to make money from it."

Yuri went still. "So we _do_ know one another."

"Not the man I am now." He said slowly, carefully. "But it is good to see you."

"You won't tell me who you are?"

"There is no point in resurrecting ghosts."

"You're nothing if not a ghost."

"Very true."

Yuri sighed and tapped his throat. "Vodka?"

"Definitely."

Ogla, was looking at him determinedly probably trying to figure out who he was. When she handed him his glass he met her eyes and saw her puzzlement and curiosity.

"_Ura_." Yuri said.

"_Ura_." Cheers.

They put their empty glasses down and smiled.

"Well I called you in to speak to you about giving Yassen what he needs for the hit. How much do you want?"

"Depends what he needs.

"Well he's here, with that time bomb Alex Rider, let's go through to the other room and talk."

"That sounds good."

Vy expected him to need Ogla's help to move from one room to another but he rose and moved confidently if not quickly towards the door with Ogla walking behind him. He led them into the pool room to find Yassen and Alex playing snooker. They set aside their cues and came into the sitting area.

"Yassen?"

"Yuri…"

"You two know each other I gather."

"I irritatingly owe him my life, what name is he using today?"

"Oscar apparently."

Yassen offered him a hand to shake and he took it, it wasn't the first time they'd met in other people company but it still felt weird not to hug him. He felt frayed after not getting much sleep and his conversation with Yuri, he just wanted to go back to the house, burrow under his arm and stay there for the rest of the week.

"He's agreed to gather your Intel, you let him know what you need and he'll get it."

"Is there any particular way you want it done?" Yassen asked Yuri.

"No. Any kind of dead works for us, but the timing is crucial."

"Right."

"You'll be wanting to get out of the country fairly soon I'm sure… You can use my jet if you like…"

"That's kind but…"

"I insist, you'll get out completely undetected."

"Alright."

Yuri sat. "Now… I can tell from his step that the boy is injured…"

Yassen touched Alex's lower back. "Yes."

"Do you need a doctor?" Yuri asked Alex.

"It's an old injury…" He said. "It'll probably get better on its own, there's no need..."

Ogla spoke up. "Your face would suggest otherwise, also your shoulder is injured unless I'm mistaken."

"Not badly, it's getting better."

"We have a doctor that is very quiet, you'll see her."

"Thank you." Yassen said. "Sometimes he doesn't listen to me."

"That is a problem with all lovers." She replied. "Now… if he was beating you at snooker with an injured shoulder I wonder how I would fair."

Yassen smiled. "I've never been particularly good at the game."

"Well my father's fond of saying he could beat me even blind so why don't we see who's worse."

"Alright."

Yuri turned to Vy. "This sounds too entertaining to miss, you'll describe it to me?"

"Yes…"

Yuri settled himself in an armchair and patted the arm next to him. "Sit here, that way I can hear you and no one else can; so you can be honest. Firstly how does Yassen look? I haven't seen him in some years."

"Good I suppose. A bit tired… He's grown his hair over the last year and gained a few scars but other than that he doesn't look hugely different."

"You should have seen him when he was young, just got back from wherever he went to train and… Well… My son always wanted him but he couldn't take his eyes off him."

"Really?"

"Most definitely, I hope Lev finds a woman at some point that he can stand… Children are most amusing… So what about Alex Rider?"

"He looks a lot like his father."

"I only met him the once."

"Well… He's got blond hair, brown eyes, about 5'6."

"I'm sure you can do better than that, really look at him."

"I'll try... His hair is about three inches long and messy…" Vy began. "He's injured at the moment, his left leg, left arm and a black eye that's going yellow around the edges. He's got quite serious eyes I suppose and he looks sad when he thinks no one's watching."

"Better, now what about your partner, I haven't even heard him speak… He moves like a big man…"

"He is, about 6'3… Got a Mediterranean look to him, dark hair, dark eyes, he's got stubble at the moment. He's got a talent for fitting in anywhere, can make himself look Arab, south American, Italian, Russian… Built like a bear but he's not clumsy, in fact he's quite well-coordinated, good in a fight; not especially deadly like Yassen but more of a brawler. Quiet…"

"Go on…"

Vy sighed and really looked at him, he caught his eye by accident and he cocked his head slightly. Asking whether he wanted something. "He's in pretty good shape, used to be a bit of a joker at Malgosto. But he was never… mean for want of a better word. Not like some were, never seen him be cruel or sadistic but who knows… He gets results. Stopped joking with me when he started working for me, probably because I never laughed."

"Why don't you laugh?"

"I don't find much funny."

"So what about yourself? What do you look like?"

"Pretty non-discript I'm afraid. Dark hair, brown eyes, six foot more or less. I look pretty ordinary…"

"Would you let me get a second opinion?"

"If you like."

"Call your partner over."

With trepidation Vy waved Wilson over and he came.

"Problem?"

"He wants you to describe me."

"Describe you?"

"Yes."

"In as much detail as you can." Yuri added.

"Erm…" Wilson looked as if he might be blushing for a moment but then he cleared his throat. "He's got dark brown hair, it shines a kind of mahogany in the sun and its not particularly long or short. He hasn't got gel in it or anything but its got a wave I suppose. His eyes are dark and oval shaped, coffee coloured but rather like the top of a good espresso than that black colour. Nose looks eastern European, lips… Are just normal I suppose. He's got high cheekbones though and an oval face. He's clean shaven…" Wilson trailed off for a moment just staring at him and then he looked him up and down. "Medium build but defined, about…" He stood for a moment and looked down at him. "Six foot, four. Sometimes I want to put a bell on him because he's fucking soundless."

Vy raised an eyebrow at him, it was he first time Wilson had ever said anything about him. He found himself thinking of ways to sneak up on him.

"What about personality?"

"He's a pain to read. Though you'd expect that. He likes taking the piss out of me but he's fairly ambivalent to whether or not I care or he gets a reaction. I don't really know him if I'm honest."

"Favourite drink?"

"I'll guess with Vodka."

"Food?"

"I don't know."

Vy was finding this amusing, how little the man he'd worked with for years knew about him.

"Music?"

"He hates Mahler, doesn't care about anything else."

"Clothes?"

"He wears whatever is appropriate for where he is."

"Colour?"

"I don't know."

"Weapon?"

"Prefers Russian made, hates German stuff, doesn't mind American."

"How many people has he killed?"

"I've no idea."

"Do you trust him?"

"Trust him? To do what?"

"Do you trust him?"

"I trust him to look out for himself. He'd torture and kill me without a second thought."

"Then why do you work for him?"

"I like him… Even though I don't know him. I suppose I don't particularly care if he kills me. I think I lost track of the point of being alive a long time ago."

Something in the way he said it made Vy look at him, really look at him, and he met his eyes with a kind of weariness that resonated with him. But then he turned and walked away, back over to Alex who cocked his head at him. He shook his in return and sat down picking up his drink.

"An unusual man."

"Yes."

"Do you like him?"

"I don't know him."

"Do you like anyone?"

"I am - as he said - ambivalent."

"So what is your point of being alive? I have my children, Yassen has Alex, Alex has Yassen, Ogla wants to fall in love, what of you?"

Vy stared at the snooker balls as they rolled, shiny, over the table. "Do you know who I am yet?"

"No."

"When you've worked it out I'll tell you."

"Will you then kill me?"

"I don't know. I've thought about doing it before but I could never bring myself to. I suppose you still hold some small loyalty in me; You did save my life. Though sometimes… Later… I wished you hadn't."

Yuri was silent.

"Yassen's winning by twenty points, though he is as awful as he made out."


	58. The Billiard Room

Alex felt nervous as he sat on the bar in the snooker room, Yassen had beaten Ogla by a very small margin and now there was a very tall woman in front of him putting on surgical gloves.

"Right… You." She pointed to Yassen who was standing next to him. "Stop hovering, you're getting in my way."

Yassen stood his ground, staring the woman down and Alex looked between the two of them. "Yassen… It's fine."

The assassin nodded and squeezed his hand before moving a couple of steps away and letting the doctor stand in front of him. She looked at his eye.

"Any dizziness?"

"No."

"Now…" She took his hands, looking at the cuts and then pulled his sleeve up following the bruising on his left arm, then she poked at his jumper. "Off. Please." She added the courtesy as if it vaguely offended her and Alex glanced at Yassen and then the rest of them who were sitting with drinks. Wincing, he took it off.

"Someone's made a right mess of you here… What is that?"

"It's a tattoo." Alex said, ducking his head.

"Don't like parlours?"

"It was against my will."

"Ah. Have you had a blood test?"

"He has." Yassen said. "It was negative for all blood borne diseases apart from septicaemia."

"You lost a lot of weight?" She asked.

"About fifteen kilos."

"You still look thin, have you been eating?"

"I was getting there but… Something else occurred."

She glanced at yassen. "I see, any problems with your shoulder."

"Yes."

She tested his range of movement and gave him some exercises, then she examined his rib from where it had cracked and pronounced that healed.

"What did you need open heart surgery for?" She asked prodding at the scar over his sternum.

"I was shot." Alex said, lifting his arm with some difficulty and showing her the exit wound.

"Any pain while exercising? Tightness? Or difficulty breathing?"

"No."

"Lucky boy." She said, grudgingly. "Your leg?"

Alex looked again at the group but no one was looking their way and he toed off his shoes before dropping his jeans.

"Nasty, did you get hit by a bus?"

"The Equivalent I suppose." He replied and when she hovered over the scarring from Libya: "my leg shattered, the muscle hasn't been the same since."

"It will take time, further injury and swelling won't help matters."

"You don't think it's re-broken?" Yassen asked.

"No, he wouldn't be walking I it was. Try and stay off it, gentle exercises once the swelling has gone down will improve the strength and help it heal properly; I assume you had physiotherapy…"

"Yes."

"Continue with those exercises and the ones I gave you for your shoulder. Give your leg a week to heal properly first."

"Alright."

"Which one of you tops?"

Alex blushed from his toes to his ears and when he tried to speak his voice squeaked.

"I do…" Yassen said softly and his arm slid around Alex's waist.

"No arms above his head, don't aggravate his leg. Basically if it hurts don't do it and for the love of god don't tie him up or anything of that sort, any jolts to stationary limbs will delay the healing process."

Alex didn't know when he'd buried his face in Yassen's arm but when she finished talking he was aware that he was berry red and that he could feel the assassin sniggering.

"We don't go in for bondage much."

"All the same, not a point in time to get experimental, I can see you thinking about it. And you…"

Alex lifted his head. "Yes?"

"Eat, healthy food and a lot of it especially proteins and iron."

"I will."

"Right, take care of yourselves."

She was abruptly gone before he could thank her and he looked, bewilderingly at Yassen for a moment before the man stepped between his legs and kissed him.

"She's got me thinking about you now…"

He shifted closer and Alex had a hard time quashing a moan. "It was embarrassing."

"You blushed… A lot."

"Shut up." Alex kissed him. "I mean why did she even have to ask?"

"It's not so inconceivable that you could be topping me…"

Alex blushed again. "You wouldn't let me… You would?"

"If you want to." He kissed one cheek and then the other. "But not when you blush like that… That makes me want to do other, very illegal, things to you."

"Like what?"

"You'll find out later."

Alex huffed as he stepped away a little. "You got me hard."

Yassen didn't look at all apologetic as he lifted him down from the bar.

"I'll get you back… Later."

When he swallowed thickly Alex grinned and pulled his clothes back on; two could play at that game.

* * *

><p>By the time they got back it was very late and Alex's feet were dragging in front of Yassen as he trudged up the stairs.<p>

"Do we have to get up tomorrow?"

"Not till eleven."

"Thank fuck."

Alex turned and took his hand, which made his heart flutter in anticipation, and led him down the corridor to their bedroom. Yassen was aching to run his hands over his bum and grind against him but tried to restrain himself. Only when he'd entered the room with him and closed the door did he run the backs of his fingers up Alex's spine to his shoulder blades and then down to the waistband of his jeans, his other hand still holding Alex's.

"Are you… Hesitant?" Alex asked softly, it was hard to say if he was amused or not.

"Cautious, I don't want to hurt you." Alex shivered when he slipped his fingers under his belt at the back. "Do you still want to?"

"I've been thinking about this all night." Alex turned and lifted his hand pressing a kiss to his knuckle it sent a flood of warmth straight up his arm. "I don't know much but I can't think of any position that'll work."

Yassen slid his hand properly into Alex's underwear and ran the pad of his middle finger over his entrance, his eyes slid closed and he keened in the back of his throat. "Fuck, oh…"

The assassin was hard in the space of a second but focused through the blur of lust on rubbing that finger up and down, he could feel the muscle tensing and relaxing and Alex's hand held tight to his.

"God… You're amazing."

"I want to try something, we can stop anytime you like; I know at first it can be strange."

"What is it?"

"I'll show you in a moment, first what do you want to do? Your choice."

"You're making it hard to-uh-think."

"What's the first thing that comes to mind?"

Alex squeezed his hand hard and let out a panting groan. "Shower, I want to shower with you."

"That sounds good." He withdrew his hand and lifted the hem of Alex's shirt, he winced as he lifted his arm and Yassen kissed his shoulder over the bruising when he'd thrown the shirt away. "How about a bath instead?"

Alex smiled. "Yes."

Their bathroom had both a shower and a large bath, one of the reasons Yassen had picked it. He left Alex for a moment to set the taps running and returned to find him sitting on the bed yawning.

"Come here." He said and Yassen sat next to him finding himself drawn into a slow kiss. Alex wrapped his right arm around his shoulders and pulled him down to lie on his side facing him and they kissed in slow oblivion until something reminded him that he should check the water. He pulled away, surprised when Alex whined like a cat in the back of his throat and tightened his hold on his shoulders.

"The bath."

"Oh…" He gave him a kiss and let him go, rolling onto his back he looked exhausted. "I suppose I'd better get naked."

"If you could stay that way for the rest of your life it'd be appreciated."

Alex laughed and undid his trousers before pushing them off and lying there in only his socks. "What would Vy say?"

"He'd deal with it."

"Not with how many times a day I get hard by just looking at you."

Yassen grinned. "When today?"

"When we were playing pool and you brushed past me while I was supposed to be taking a shot - dirty cheat."

"Had to do something, you were beating me by a shameful margin and you've had the shit kicked out of you."

Alex just looked down at himself; he was beginning to get hard. "That's my fifth today."

"Teenagers…"

"Never used to happen when you weren't around." He lay back and gave him a sly smile, Yassen swallowed.

"I'm going to…"

"-check the bath?" Alex supplied.

He nodded and tore himself away, the bath was a bit over-filled but okay and at the right temperature. Yassen turned the water off and started stripping.

"It's ready."

Alex sat up with a hiss and pulled his socks off before limping to him and running his fingers over his abdomen.

"How're we doing this?"

"Sit against me?"

"Sounds amazing."

Yassen got in the bath first and then welcomed Alex against his chest, he went utterly limp in his arms and breathed out a sigh of content.

"I think I'm in heaven."

He responded by kissing over his shoulders and gently massaging his thigh.

Alex murmured. "I think you're fantastic and I think I'll kick Kidesh right in the bollocks for even daring to speak your name, let alone think about you naked."

Yassen chuckled, even as his heart warmed and Alex turned his head for an awkward kiss. "I mean it."

"If you kick him in the balls it'll only show that what he said got to you, then he'll just do it to be annoying."

"I know. I should be like Vy, but it's irritating."

"Yeah, I know."

"Mostly because he has no idea what he's talking about…" Alex sighed and let his head loll back. "he knows nothing about you and dares to claim some kind of mastery in your sexual exploits…"

"Only because he's the only person he's ever met apart from you who has been with me more than once." Yassen's hand other hand slipped down and curled around his cock. "And even then he had to tie me down and ride me."

"Mmnng, don't." Alex pushed his hand away. "If I come I'll fall asleep."

"That wouldn't be such a bad thing."

"I'm too curious as to what you have planned..."

"You cant guess?"

"No, you could be into anything."

"Would you ever let me tie you up?"

"That doctor put the idea in your head."

"She did… Hadn't thought about it till then."

"I guess I'd give it a go, I trust you."

Yassen hummed for a second and shifted against him, it felt good to rub his erection against his back. "That night in Egypt when I watched you finger yourself… That was amazing."

He saw Alex swallow. "Give me your hand."

Yassen extended it, heart beating fast in his chest and Alex laid his own over it and guided it downwards over his hard flesh and further till his middle finger lay over his entrance. The assassin was breathing heavily.

"It'll hurt without lube."

"I know, I'm not going that far I just wanted to touch myself with your fingers."

Yassen ground himself against his back and moaned. "What you do to me…"

Alex pressed yassen's finger against his entrance and let out a shaky sigh when just the tip sunk a tiny way in. "Fuck."

Yassen's wrapped his other arm tight around his waist, holding him against him as he rutted against his back. "Alex…"

"Feels good." He muttered back. "Would you ever let me tie _you_ up?"

"Yes."

"Is that what you want to do tonight?"

"No - it would hurt you too much to ride me."

Alex shifted his hips up against his finger. "I'd like it though."

"When your leg's better."

"I'll make you come twice in me."

Yassen set his teeth to Alex's neck. "I'm so fucking turned on."

"You're shaking."

The assassin clutched him tighter and he ground back, rubbing Yassens finger over his entrance. "What's it like being in me."

"You're tight, really tight and warm and wet sometimes - when I've already come in you. And you shiver and make this noise and god…" Yassen broke off and moaned himself as he moved against Alex's back. "I want you all the time because your skin's so soft and you tense and relax around me and it drives me mad. Sometimes when you drag your nails down my back I cant breathe, its like every receptor I have is on fire and when you come…" He bit into his shoulder, wordlessly moaning into his skin, and shuddered before going still. Alex pulled his hand back up and wrapped his arms and Yassen's around himself.

"Now I feel like a teenager." He gasped and lapped at the slight teeth marks. "You're so beautiful, are you sure I cant…"

"Not yet." Alex trapped his hand beneath his own. "Relax."

"Alright."

Alex slipped a little deeper into the hot water, and Yassen let his head rest against the rim of bath. He was utterly boneless and when the spy kissed him softly he could only flutter his eyelids and draw him a little closer.

It was almost twenty minutes later when they finally got out of the bath and dried themselves off. Lying hot with damp skin on top of the covers.

"So…" Alex looked sleepily up at Yassen as he knelt over him, his body was undeniably still interested.

Yassen smiled a little nervously and lifted him carefully positioning him diagonally on the bed.

"What are we doing?"

"Erm…" He was upside down to Alex and the kiss was a little awkward but, hands trembling a little, he slowly kissed down his neck to his collarbone and licked at his nipple, dropping onto his side. Alex turned onto his to compliment him and kissed the scar over his heart before setting his teeth gently to his own nipple. He moaned and moved down Alex's body over his slightly too prominent ribs, kissing at that hollow just below the last one that made him arch his back.

When Alex dragged his teeth over one of Yassen's abs he gasped against Alex's skin and kissed a group of bruises above his hip running his hand over his bum and squeezing it.

"Oh…" Alex breathed against his stomach. "That."

His cock gave a twitch and Yassen grinned sucking at the hollow beneath Alex's hip and licking the crease where his leg joined his body.

"Yeah."

Saying Sixty-nine out loud had seemed juvenile a moment ago but now… Alex had taken him into his mouth and when he licked the tip of his erection in return Alex moaned around him, squeezing his hip. It was incredibly easy to take him into his throat from this angle and he liked it when Alex's hand found the back of his head and ran through his hair. Alex was breathing hard against his hip and his other hand found his balls and caressed them as he sucked at his skin no doubt leaving a mark.

"Cant concentrate when you do that…" Alex said, breath hitching. Yassen pulled back until his cock slipped out of his mouth with a pop.

"That good huh?"

"Feels something like this…" Alex took him back into his mouth and Yassen's mind went blank as he felt himself slip into his throat.

"Uh." His hand was in Alex's hair and he couldn't help but put a little pressure on the back of Alex's head, though he moved it a second later to his shoulder and just held on. He didn't think Alex could do that! When he pulled back the suction made him shudder.

"God Alex."

He did it again and yassen couldn't seem to do anything but put Alex's cock in his mouth and suck when he remembered. He was close already despite having come not too long ago and Alex seemed to know it as he pulled back and pumped him with one hand while sucking at the head.

"Alex… I'm…" He tried to move his head away but Alex stayed right where he was and with a shiver and a cry the assassin came. It took a couple of seconds to recover; his limbs felt abnormally heavy. He could smell Alex's clean skin and the musky scent of his arousal and blearily realised the spy had sat up.

Yassen blinked owlishly at him for a moment before convincing his limbs to move. He sat up and stroked up Alex's leg leaning in for a kiss, he tasted of his cum.

"That's twice already, are you trying to make a point?" Yassen asked.

"Maybe." Alex grinned. "But now I really want to come."

Yassen trailed a single finger down the length of Alex's erection and the spy sighed, eyes rolling back into his head. "Please finger me."

"Come here." Yassen sat against the headboard and welcomed Alex between his legs with his back to him. He gently lifted his legs so they lay over his thighs. Chin resting on the teenagers shoulder Yassen found the sight of him spread open almost edible and reached under the pillow next to him for the lube he'd put there earlier and squeezed some onto his fingers. He wrapped his hand around Alex's cock and slowly stroked him till he was slick with it and moaning.

"Fingers…" He managed to gasp. "Please?"

Yassen swallowed. "I should do _what_ with my fingers?"

His public school accent was strained as he panted. "Finger me? Please? God Yassen…"

Yassen let his fingers drop a little lower and fondled his balls for a moment and then a little further, over his perineum until he felt his entrance twitch beneath his finger.

"Yes… Oh yes." Alex's head fell back as he slid one finger in just a little. "Please?"

Alex was actually begging. He slid his finger all the way in and crooked it.

"Fuck. Oh yes." Alex slid his hand into Yassen's hair and pulled him into a desperate kiss. Then he keened pulling back a little and just stared up at him with those liquid brown eyes.

"That first time…" The spy gasped. "All you wanted me to do was look at you."

"Your eyes are amazing."

"So are yours." Alex said before whining, eyes half closed, with pleasure.

"I love you."

Alex came, legs twitching weakly and breath ragged as it pulled in and out of his heaving chest. Then he went completely limp in his arms. Yassen held him for a while, running his fingers up and down his legs and when Alex finally opened his eyes he kissed him.

"Teeth." The blonde murmured and rolled tiredly out of bed shuffling out of the bedroom into the bathroom.

Yassen brushed his teeth next to him and watched him wash the come off his stomach. Moments later they settled under the heavy covers and fell deeply asleep.


End file.
